


Second Chances

by Kakumei16



Series: The Cera Chronicles [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, F/M, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-07-17 06:56:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 25,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16090394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kakumei16/pseuds/Kakumei16
Summary: Cera Amell enjoyed her life in the Circle.  She had a few close friends, an education, and may be First Enchanter Irving's favorite student.  Unlike others in her situation, she was content there.  Saniel Mahariel was the best hunter in her clan, (don't tell Tamlen), despite her love being betrothed to another.  Both women had experienced changes before, but never expected their worlds to flip on its head.  A Blight is threatening the land and they are cut out of their lives to save Ferelden from the darkspawn threat, neither knowing anything about the world outside of their own.





	1. Cera: The Harrowing

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This work has been written for quite a few years now, but I'm only just getting the nerve to post it. Yikes! I am revising the chapters as I go through and, if needed, I will get a Beta going forward. Just let me know in the comments if I miss too many things. I also welcome constructive feedback, so please feel free to leave some in the comments if you have any.
> 
> This story is following the story line of Origins. I have these characters going up to Inquisition, but this one will only focus on Origins. Since I'm pretty sure anyone reading this has already played the game at least once, I'm not getting in the nitty gritty of everything. While playing, I would think about what happened between those game moments. That's not to say some aren't included because some are and in-game dialogue will be present in some cases. This is also in first person, which isn't my usual. It just felt right when I started this. I'll note in the chapter titles whose perspective the chapter will be from to hopefully avoid any confusion.

A sharp nudge in my arm was what had stirred me from my sleep. It was followed by another shortly after. The disturbance slowly shoved away the fog in my head that allowed me to open my eyes and look at what it was. A templar. The templars, while a part of the Chantry, watched over the mages. It was unnerving at times to always be watched. Everything you did was scrutinized. It was enough to drive some mages towards the demons in the Fade. That was exactly the type of thing the templars were in place for. Actually, it was a vicious circle.

The templar standing over me gave a gruff, "Move," and nodded toward the door. I was in the apprentice dormitories. Our rooms were large with bunk beds lining the walls and down the middle of the room. Everyone else was sleeping. Why was I woken up? He nudged me again, which spurred me to climb out of bed quicker than normal. If anyone else heard the commotion, they pretended to still be sleeping. 

I grabbed my blue robe, pulled it on over my nightdress, then slipped on my slippers before following the templar out of the room. He led me through the Circle Tower, the stone hallways only furnished by torches and long colorful rugs. We walked around the tower, up the stairs to the next floor then repeated all the way to the top. The only thing up there was the Harrowing Chamber. Woke me up? Oh! Could that be why they woke me up? I mused. The thought excited me that I was good enough to take the test to become an actual mage in the tower instead of an apprentice but what if I didn’t pass?

The Harrowing was...well, none of us were sure. We mages knew that all apprentices needed to go through the Harrowing in order to become a mage. Most did not become mages. They would disappear, never to be heard from again. As for the what the Harrowing truly was, we were never told. It was a secret kept between the First Enchanter, the templars, and all mages who passed. I didn't know if I wanted to go through the Harrowing.

Still silent, the templar opened the chamber door and allowed me to walk in first. The room was huge and the ceiling was so high. The walls were lined with large stained glass windows of all different colors. The stone floor had intricate designs carved into it. Aside from those few details, the room was bare save a pedestal in the center. First Enchanter Irving stood near the pedestal and cast me a warm smile. The old man has a special place in my heart ever since I had settled in at the Circle all those years ago.. He always asked for my help with things and he tried to guide me through my classes. He always said I had a lot of talent and the potential to be a great mage. I always happily basked in the favoritism. 

Beside Irving was the Knight-Commander Gregoir, who was the head of the templars in the Circle. He was an older man, too, but not quite as old as Irving. I was fairly certain his scowl was permanently etched in his face since it was there every time I saw him. There were two other templars there, as well. One had on his helmet. The other was Cullen. He was a fairly new templar to the Circle. He believed in his duty, yet stuttered far too much around me. Perhaps I flirted with him a few times, but if no one else saw it, did it actually happen? I hadn't expected him to be there in the Harrowing Chamber, though..

"'Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him'. Thus spoke the prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin," Gregoir started once I stopped beside Irving. His voice was strong and steady. What he was saying was something we had learned in one of our classes. "Your magic is a gift, but it's also a curse, for demons of the dream realm - the Fade - are drawn to you, and seek to use you as a gateway into this world. This is why the Harrowing exists. The ritual sends you into the Fade, and there you will face a demon, armed with only your will."

Face a demon? That was what the Harrowing was about? I felt cool dryness on my eyes when they widened in surprise. "But...what happens if I cannot defeat the demon?" I asked, though I was sure I knew the answer.

"It will turn you into an abomination and the templars will be forced to slay you." Okay. That was what I was afraid of. Gregoir gestured toward the pedestal and continued his speech. Was it the same test, the same demon, for all Harrowings? "This is lyrium; the very essence of magic and your gateway to the Fade." 

I looked over at the pedestal, noticing the glow coming from the top. Lyrium. Our gateway to the Fade maybe, but from what I had heard, the templars also used Lyrium so they could combat a rogue mage. That was rumor with no confirmation otherwise. If that were the case, could templars access the Fade like mages could? Although, I had never been there except in dreams. Would it be different to be sent there? “I-”

"The Harrowing is a secret out of necessity, child," Irving interrupted me, his frail voice soothing the nerves Gregoir had disturbed in my gut. "Every mage must go through this trial by fire. As we succeeded, so shall you." He smiled at me. He really was like the father I never got to know. If I survived, I would need to tell him that. "Keep your wits about you and remember the Fade is a realm of dreams. The spirits may rule it, but your own will is real."

"The apprentice must go through this test alone, First Enchanter," Gregoir stated, almost a warning to Irving. "You are ready," he said, pointing toward the lyrium filled pedestal. 

I looked back at the pedestal and took a hesitant step forward. It was awful having everyone's eyes on me, especially the templars'. I lifted my chin a bit, rolled my shoulders back, and walked forward as instructed. The lyrium's glow was haunting, but it called me. Not literally. There was just a feeling that washed over me. I reached out my hand, my fingertips just grazing the glowing blue surface. It rippled under my fingers as water would. The glow then latched onto my fingers and engulfed my hand. Eyes wide, I turned my hand to look at my palm. Slowly, the lyrium climbed up my arm. I heard the templars' armor clink behind me. They were moving in. A blinding flash erupted from the pedestal and I had to shut my eyes against it. When I opened them, I was no longer in the Harrowing chamber.

*****

Unlike a dream, I felt so light like I was floating but I was really on my feet. My surroundings were washed out in color. Everything was pale and slightly blurred. I blinked my eyes then rubbed them. Annoyingly, the blurriness did not go away. The ground was mostly dirt yet had no give under my weight. I looked around further. There were no walls, just some hills, and an endless yellow-grey sky. There wasn't even any sound. It was quiet. Too quiet.

I looked around, trying to figure out which way to go. The only thing I knew was that I was to face a demon, but was given no direction on where to find said demon. It figured. The templars probably didn't care whether I made it out of there or turned into an abomination. Even I knew that it was a vicious circle. The Chantry was afraid of mages because some chose to be possessed by demons. Some mages chose such terrible paths because the Chantry has such strict rule on them. Both sides were afraid of one another and went to extremes instead of using logic. It was stupid but that was the way things were. Granted, the Circle had some prison-like rules, but it was still my home. 

"Someone else thrown to the wolves. As fresh and prepared as ever," I heard someone say. The voice was male and airy...but I didn't see anyone. I looked around me and turned in a circle. No one. "It isn't right that they do this, the templars. Not to you, me, anyone." My eyes lowered toward the ground and before me was a giant rat. The rodent looked up at me and I could have sworn it smiled... Creepy.

"You're a talking rat," I replied.

"You think you're really here? In that body? You look like that because you think you do!" It wasn't my imagine. The rat was talking to me. It even sighed. "It's always the same. But it's not your fault. You're in the same boat I was, aren't you?" it asked. Before I could even think of responding, a bright light flashed out from the rat. I squinted and held up my arm to shield myself. When the light disappeared, I opened my eyes. The rat was gone. In its wake stood a man. He was a little shorter than me with short slicked back hair. "Allow me to welcome you to the Fade. You can call me...well, Mouse," the man said with a slight bow. 

I studied him for a moment. "You...took the Harrowing?" I asked him. His red robes weren't the color of apprentice robes. We had blue robes. They looked like the robes of those who had already passed the Harrowing. My gut twisted in warning.

Mouse pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture that reminded me of Knight Commander Gregoir, though he did it when he was exasperated. "It's fuzzy, that time before. They wake you up in the middle of the night and drag you to the Harrowing chamber and then..."

"Then...?"

"The templars kill you if you take too long, you see. They figure you failed, and they don't want something getting out. That's what they did to me...I think. I have no body to reclaim. And you don't have much time before you end up the same."

A chill rippled throughout my body at the thought. Being stuck in the Fade? I took a quick glance around then swallowed hard. "Well, that's not going to happen to me," I stated. If I said it and believed it, I would achieve it...right?

"You're braver than I. I ran away and I hid. I don't know how long."

"Well, what am I supposed to do? I have no direction here," I threw my hands out. Hearing about Mouse being a wuss wasn't going to help me and if I really had a small window of time, I needed to finish soon.

"There's something here, contained, just for an apprentice like you. You have to face the creature, a demon, and resist it, if you can. That's your way out. Or your opponent's. If the templars wouldn't kill you. A test for you, a tease for the creatures of the Fade," Mouse replied. There was something in his eyes when he said that last part that shot another dart of unease into my stomach. 

"I don't understand why this test is so feared," I said, more to myself than Mouse. Anyone idiot with a will could resist a demon. Unless it was to be a violent encounter but it didn't sound like that.

Mouse shook his head and stepped closer. I stepped back on instinct. "Your opponent is powerful, cunning. I can lead you to it, if you'd like. My chance was long ago, but you...you may have a way out." For someone who said he hid for a long time was sure stepping up in the bravery department. I wanted to question his motives, the words dangling on the tip of my tongue, yet I didn’t. If he, in fact, knew where the demon would be, I could use his help. It didn’t mean I trusted him.

"All right then, Mouse. Lead the way," I gestured with my hand for him to walk. He did so, but not before turning back into the rat to scurry off. My brow furrowed. How did he do that? Was it really just as simple as imagining it? I closed my eyes and tried, imagining myself to be a wolf...nothing changed. I looked down at my human hands and sighed. Stupid rat.

Mouse lead me through the Fade. We passed a few spirits but they were more wisps than any definite figure. Then there was the ring of fire. It had been down a winding road that I would have found eventually. The flames were like a gleaming sign that read: DEMON HERE. Mouse hung back as I stepped forward. There was nothing at first then the ground near my feet became hot. I hopped back. A small pool of lava spread out on the frozen dirt ground. From what I could tell, it was a portal...or not. The pool turned black and from it rose a demon. The demon, I guess. It didn't have a human figure but was, instead, an blob made of the lava...with arms. No fingers. It did have eyes, though. Piercing, angry, yellow eyes that glared at me when it spoke. How did it speak without a mouth? 

"And so it comes to me at last," the demon spoke. It's voice rumbled in the pit of my belly, forcing a bit of fear to creep up into my heart. Our books showed demons but to see a living one with my own eyes? It was enthralling despite it’s creep factor. I couldn't look away. I couldn’t speak at first, either. "Soon I shall see the land of the living with your eyes, creature. You shall be mine, body and soul," the demon sounded like it was grinning. It slithered forward a little then stopped when Mouse appeared beside me in his human form. 

"It's two against one. Do you really want to fight us both?" I asked. My voice faltered. The demon laughed and, really, could I blame it?

"Amusing. Have you not told it of our...arrangement, Mouse?" I looked over at the fallen mage beside me. Arrangement?

"We don't have an arrangement, demon. Not anymore!" Mouse shouted. 

"Aww. And after all those wonderful meals we have shared? Now suddenly the mouse has changed the rules?" Meals? I looked between the two as they bantered. A third alarm rang in my head.

"I'm not a mouse now! And soon I won't have to hide! I don't need to bargain with you!" Mouse shouted. That seemed to displease the demon. It lunged. I jumped back as it went after Mouse then turned to me. My mind reeled. We never fought in the Circle. Sure, we learned spells and focused on our specialties but there was never any fighting. Fighting could cause a potential uprising against the templars by those mages who were fed up with- “Ah!” I gasped, unknowingly having backed up into the circle of fire. Pain burrowed in my ankle where the flame has touched. As the demon neared, I felt the heat pressing on my exposed skin from the front. I started to sweat, both figuratively and literally.

It was truly amazing what your mind and body will do when your back is against the wall, or fire as it were. My mind reeled trying to think of something, anything I could do to protect myself. I know I passed most of my classes so where was the knowledge when I needed it most? Mouse in rat form wasn't any help. 

Suddenly I felt my fingertips tingle, the nip of cold combating the heat from the demon. My mind cleared enough for me to think properly. Of course. I lifted my hands and focused on the cooling feeling in my fingers. It spread through my hands, encompassing my arms in a wintry sheen. When the feeling reached my core, my eyes flicked up to the demon and I threw my hands out, palms flat. A blast of ice rushed from my core, finding exit through my palms and struck the demon. It immediately recoiled and melted back in the ground. Despite the cold from the spell, the magic sent a soothing wave of warmth over me as the blast faded and I lowered my arms. I had to take a few deep breaths. It felt like I just sprinted. Was that really all it took to defeat a demon? One cold spell from an apprentice mage? No, that didn’t seem right.

"You did it. You actually did it!" Mouse rejoiced. I looked over at him. The rat was a man again and he bounded over to me with a large smile. "When you came, I hoped that maybe you might be able to, but I never really thought any of you were worthy." Worthy. That word struck my the wrong way, just as some of the things Mouse had originally said to me. How I was a tease for the creatures of the Fade...the glint in his eye when he said it...

I trusted my gut for many things and it hadn’t failed me yet. I prayed it wouldn’t be an exception here. I straightened up and started thinking of other spells, just in case. "The ones you betrayed before me. What were their names?" I asked him, my features hardening. Mouse laughed.

"The others, they never had a chance. The templars set them up to fail, like they tried with you. I regret my part in it, but you have shown me that there is hope. You can be so much more than you know," he said. I don't know why I thought about it, but I could be much more. If the templars really wanted me to fail, I just proved them wrong... Then Irving's voice entered my head, echoing his teachings of using magic responsibly and for the good of things. I shook my head to break whatever hold it felt like Mouse had on me.

"What is it you think you can get from me?"

"You defeated a demon, you completed the test. With time, you will be a master enchanter with no equal. And maybe there is hope in that for someone as small and as...forgotten as me. If you want to help." Help? Did he actually think I'd want to help him? "There may be a way for me to leave here, to get a foothold outside. You just need to want to let me in..."

"Let you in!?" I screeched, appalled by the suggestion. "I'm starting to think the other demon wasn't my true test."

"What? What are you... Of course it was!" Mouse stuttered. "What else is here that could harm an apprentice of your potential?" The cold started nipping at my fingertips again. He noticed the dull blue starting to emit from them and he laughed, throwing his head back. "You are a smart one. Simply killing is a warrior's job. The real dangers of the fade are preconceptions, careless trust...pride."

Mouse transformed again but not back into a rat. The new form seemed about fifteen feet tall. I barely registered his features before he emitted a laugh that was deeper than the fire demon's. "Keep your wits about you, mage. True tests never end," he warned and in a flash he was gone. The fire circle was gone. I looked around me quickly, waiting for him to attack from another angle. Another flash burst in front of my eyes and I squeezed them shut.

*****

The ground was different then. The eerie silence was replaced by soft voices. I opened my eyes, which were oddly heavy, and found myself back in the Harrowing chamber on the floor. My body ached. My head was pounding. I rolled over onto my side and pushed myself up to stand with effort. Gregoir was right there in front of me, staring at me with a hard look. I looked back, though it was hard with the pain in my head and how heavy my eyes were. They kept trying to close. "You're lucky First Enchanter raised a good, humble girl," I muttered. My body swayed back. I didn't hit the floor, in fact I could still see it a good distance away when my eyes fluttered open again.

"Gregoir?" Irving asked. His voice was always so soothing.

"She's clean. Cullen, take her back to the apprentice quarters," Gregoir ordered. I must have fallen back into Cullen, or he caught me. I felt the cold metal of armored gloves against my back and the backs of my knees before my legs could give out. I was swept off the floor, cradled in Cullen's arms. I glanced a look up at my human carriage with a lazy smile. Cullen. He had stern brown eyes that carried a youthful, innocent gleam to them and his hair, while short, was a bushel of light blonde curls. His features were a stark contrast to my own. Light and dark. Bad and good...or good and bad.... I nestled my head against his breastplate and closed my eyes again, giving in to sleep.


	2. Cera: News Travels Fast

"Cera," I heard the voice just before I felt the sharp nudge in my arm. Why did everyone have to wake me up like that? I peaked an eye open to see Jowan leaning over my bed, his face a mixture of excitement and concern. Jowan had been my friend at the Circle for years and years. According to him, he was left at the Chantry at the age of six. His parents were afraid of him and he was sent to the Circle. I had been about five when my magic manifested and I was taken to the Circle. I didn't remember anything about my parents and Irving didn't tell tell me when I asked him. He only told me that the Circle was home and they were my family. The past was past. I guess that was easier to keep in mind when all I ever remembered and knew was living in the Circle tower.

"Good morning to you, too, Jowan," I grumbled and pushed myself to sit up, rubbing the sleep crust away from my eyes. He put his hands on my shoulders and shook me lightly.

"Good morning? Cera, you had your Harrowing! The tower's buzzing about you being a mage now!" he exclaimed with another shake. I slapped at his hands and he removed them. "You get to move to the mage's quarters and have your own room! What was it like?"

"What?" It took me a moment for my mind to catch up. The Harrowing had felt like a bad dream. Although the ending wasn't terrible... I looked down and saw that I was no longer in my apprentice robes but back in my nightclothes, a short-sleeved nightgown that went down to my knees sleeves. I searched my memory, but after Cullen picked me up I had fallen asleep. At least I believed I did since I didn't remember anything until Jowan so rudely interrupted my sleep. I smirked picturing Cullen getting me back in my night clothes, even if they were under my apprentice robes. If he had done it, he was probably as red as a cherry the whole time. It made me wish I had been coherent on my trip back to the apprentice's quarters.

"The templars brought you back sometime last night, or so I heard. So what was it like? Tell me," Jowan begged. I waved my hand at him to shoo him away from my personal space.

"You know I can't tell you that, Jowan. It's supposed to stay shrouded in mystery forever," I drew out the last word and broke into light laughter. He did not join in.

"I thought we were friends," he pouted. Jowan always pouted. He was so uptight about everything. We had to live from day to day, never knowing what the templars would order of us and, most importantly, we were stuck in a stone tower until the day we shriveled up and died. That was how Jowan described the Circle.

So he would stop pouting, I moved forward and hugged him from the side, resting my head on his shoulder. "We are friends, Jowan. You know that and that doesn't change because of the Harrowing."

"But I would tell you what it was like."

"No, you wouldn't, because I wouldn't ask." A few moments of silence passed between us before he reached up and patted my arm. I noticed his forehead crinkling, bringing back those worried, frustrated wrinkles he usually sported. "Something else is bother you, Jowan. What's wrong?"

My arms and head bobbed with his shoulders as he took in a deep breath and let it back out with a heavy sigh. "I think they're going to make me tranquil," he said quietly. My arms tensed around him.

"Why would you think that?"

"I'm not going to say who, but someone saw the list on Irving's desk. My name was on it," my friend relayed. I didn't much like that news. It was known in the Circle that if a mage didn’t go through the Harrowing in a certain time period, that mage would most likely be made tranquil. It seemed a fate worse than death. To be made tranquil was to lose yourself. It was when a mage was severed from the Fade. No more dreams. No more magic. No emotion. Nothing. There were Tranquils in the tower that were put to mindless, menial tasks. The most notable was Owain who was in charge of the supplies. He just stood there outside the storage every day, still as a statue. If he spoke, his voice was eerily even toned and I don't even know if he ever blinked. The sign of a tranquil mage was a red sun marked on the forehead.

"Are you sure?" I whispered back to him. He nodded. "Maybe you'll be taken for your Harrowing tonight."

"Doubtful. I've been here two years longer than you, Cera. If they haven't taken me yet..." I hugged him tighter and lifted my head to plant a kiss on his cheek. A mage walked by the dorm door and looked as us, shook her head, and continued on. Rumors had circled a few times of he and I being involved but they were all false. Jowan wasn't my type, but I cared a great deal about him and had no desire for him to ever become tranquil. I didn't wish that fate on my worst enemy...if I had one.

"Sorry. That's not why I came here. Irving is looking for you. He wants to see you in his study," Jowan shrugged out of my hold and stood up from my bed. I couldn't blame the change in his demeanor.

"Okay... Jowan, try not to worry, okay? Maybe that person was just trying to get to you."

"I don't think so, but thanks, Cera. I'll see you around." I watched Jowan leave and close the door behind him. I thought about the conversation before getting out of bed. 

I opened the trunk at the foot of my bed and was surprised to see my apprentice robes neatly folded. I took them out along with a plain cream colored dress for underneath. Some wore nothing under their robes, but I felt I had to have a little bit of decency. I changed and put my apprentice robes on before leaving the female apprentice quarters, grabbing my hair pins on the way out. On the way around the hall, I ran my fingers through my black, shoulder length locks and hurried to pin it back away from my face. I had been so engrossed in the task that I almost bumped into something, or someone. One glance and I could tell it was a templar from the armor. We both stopped and I looked up, smiling at the handsome face before me.

"Good morning, Cullen," I greeted the young man. He bowed his head, not returning my smile.

"Good day, Ce-Ce-...m'lady," he replied. The stutter was cute.

"Thank you for taking me back to my room last night." Another nod. "And for helping me into my night clothes," I added. I was greatly rewarded by the blush that spread up his neck to his ears. He averted his eyes.

"I-I-I-"

"It's okay, Cullen," I tried not to laugh. He was rather skittish. "I heard you were the one who was to strike me down if I failed my Harrowing. Would you really have done that?"

"It was my duty. It wouldn't have been personal, though. I would have felt terrible about it," he quickly replied. It was the first smooth sentence he had said. I nodded then, not sure he would like anything I could have said. "Knight-Commander Gregoir said you finished your Harrowing faster than any other mage."

"Oh?" I perked up at that bit of information. The way he said it, it didn't seem like he was supposed to share that. "Guess I'm just really special then."

"Yes, you are... I mean...I, uh...I should get back to my watch." Cullen moved past me and I turned to watch him.

"Cullen," I called after him. He stopped and looked back at me. "You're really cute when you blush like that," I said, adding in a wink for good measure before walking down the hall, making sure to put an extra swing in my hips with each step. When I glanced back, Cullen was still there watching me and I gave a little wave before walking out of his sight. 

I entered the great room to take the stairs which were buzzing with mages. I tried to listen to anything that was being said and picked up on two things. The first thing I heard was that there was a Grey Warden in the tower. We had read stories about the Grey Wardens when I had been younger. The second rumor floating around was regarding a mage that was in trouble. Anders. The name didn't ring any bells but I drifted toward the crowd gathered near the stairs leading toward the lower floors. Only the dungeons were down there. Another door opened and in walked four templars, two in front, two in back, and between them a mage in shackles. The mage in question was very handsome with his blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, hazel eyes looking at the crowd. I saw him roll his eyes and drop his head back. The name Anders was whispered amongst the women. Now I remembered him well...

 

*****

_"Okay, I'm here, I'm here," I announced, entering the classroom. It was empty except for one other mage, Anders. He was older than I by a few years and he was to tutor me. Creation class was my biggest struggle, but he excelled and was considered one of the most promising healers in the tower. They said that you'd try out different types of magic until you found one that worked for you. Creation was not it yet I was being docked for poor performance. Some people were better at creating, others at destroying. I was better at the latter._

_"You're late," he noted, his long thin fingers tapping on the table. "If I was one of those stuffy mages, I would probably care."_

_"I lost track of time and forgot my book and-"_

_"Are you always like this?" Anders kept his eyes on me like a predator, watching every move I made._

_"I'm failing class," I said with dismay. I stacked my books neatly on the side of the table then placed my hands on the table, one over the other. "So where are we starting?"_

_"I heard that you screwed up every attempt at healing so I've taken it upon myself to recreate..." Anders started. He stood up and crossed the room to another table. On top was a block of clear, firm, jelly-like substance, with pieces and bags of something in the middle. "A break in a body. Now, come over here and fix it."_

_I stood up and walked over to my tutor. I bent down beside him, examining the insides of the clear jelly block. "What are those things?"_

_"Um...well...a bone and those bags contain red liquid to simulate blood. Piece together the bone and don't break any bags then mend the ripped cube. It really is quite simple."_

_"Simple? Right..." I grumbled. I placed my hands over the tear in the jelly cube and focused. A soft, blue glow emitted from my hands and traveled down into the tear, wrapping around the broken bits. I kept my breathing even and focused on piecing back the 'bone'. Pieces started mending together, a few more...and a bag broke. The crimson liquid spread through what space it could in the cube. I cursed. A few more pieces of bone...another bag popped. "Andraste's tits!" I hissed, ripping my hands away, killing the magical glow. Anders was laughing at me._

_"That was terrible," he laughed some more, earning a glare from me._

_"Oh, aren't you just helpful," I straightened up and glared at the male mage._

_"Well it was! It also makes me very glad I decided to not bring a rat to practice on. May I?" Anders gestured toward the odd cube. I shrugged and stepped aside but when he approached me, he moved me back in front of the cube and turned me to face it. I felt his body press against my back and I couldn't help but feel a little giddy at the proximity. "You just need to relax. You think too hard," he said, his voice just above a whisper and I felt his breath on my ear. My heart skipped a beat then sped up as his hands slid down my arms and over my hands. Guiding me, I felt his magic pass through my hands and down into the cube. The liquid retreated back into the bags and closed up. The 'bone' pieces moved back into place and the jelly cube tear knitted back together. It was amazing to watch._

*****

Anders had tutored me for a few weeks and I had just barely passed that class. When I was given the passing grade, I gave him a thank you gift...it was a very nice gift, too, and he hadn't complained in the least bit. Now there he was wearing shackles and being led down to the dungeons. I briefly caught his eye but that was it. "What'd he do?" I asked one of the nearby mages. Without fully looking at me the woman responded.

"He escaped again. They found him."

"Again?"

"Didn't you know? This is his fourth time. He's going into solitary now." The news surprised me. Sure, it had been a year or so since Anders had tutored me and I hadn't seen him since, but why would he run? I shook my head and turned from the crowd. I couldn't keep Irving waiting any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anders tried to make too many escape attempts and there was a very brief mention of "knowing" one another in Awakening, so I wanted to play on that a little bit. Two more chapters and that'll be the mage intro. Then on to Saniel, the Dalish elf.


	3. Cera: The Grey Warden

First Enchanter Irving's office was on the third floor with the newer mages. As the floors went up, so did the level of talent, years of teaching, and the templars mixed in on every floor. I knew my new room would be on the third floor, but which one and would I have a roommate the main questions. Perhaps that was why I had been called to his office.

I approached the elder mage's door, which was slightly cracked, and knocked. A faint 'come in' beckoned me inside. There was a large desk in the center of the room that was piled with books. The walls were lined with oak bookshelves and more books. It was like his own personal library with the largest volumes in all of Thedas. Irving was standing near his desk along with another man. The stranger had sun-kissed skin, black hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a gold earring in his ear. He wore armor with two daggers sheathed on his back. 

"You wanted to see me, First Enchanter?" I asked sweetly, doing my best not to gawk at the newcomer. 

"Yes, yes. Cera, I first wanted to congratulate you on your Harrowing. You did a superior job. Even Gregoir was impressed," Irving's old, strained voice was pleased.

"Thank you, First Enchanter."

"Since when have you been so formal?" he chuckled. "I would like you to meet the Grey Warden Duncan."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," I bowed slightly. Duncan smiled warmly at me, bowing his head in acknowledgement. "A pleasure to meet you, as well. I've heard promising things about you, Cera."

"May I ask what brings a fabled Grey Warden to the tower?" My curiosity had gotten the best of me. Irving spoke first with a shake of his head.

"There will be time for questions later, my dear. Please escort Duncan to his room. Then I would start packing my things, if I were you. You are moving to the mage's quarters today," Irving shared. Seeing him happy made me feel good. 

"Yes, First Enchanter. Thank you." Just as I was told to, I lead Duncan around the floor to the designated guest room that was reserved for those special occasions someone visited the Circle. While we walked, I didn't speak. Of course I had many questions but it felt rude to ask and I didn't want word getting back to Irving that I badgered the Grey Warden. "Here you are, Duncan. If you need anything, you can always ask. There will be templars patrolling the halls though the day and night."

"Patrolling?" he asked as he entered the room and looked around.

"Yes. That might not have been the correct word. My apologies."

"There is no need to apologize. Thank you for showing me my room."

"You're welcome, ser," I bid the Grey Warden adieu and was on my way back to the apprentice quarters. I had just walked down the stairs when I was pulled to the side by my arm. Two firm hands on my shoulders stopped my momentum and I frowned at my friend. "Maker, Jowan!" I exclaimed, putting my hand over my heart. "Did you have to do that?"

"Sorry, I just wanted to get your attention."

"Mission accomplished," I replied. He took my arm again and pulled off to a corner of the room behind some partitions. 

"I'm sorry for scaring you but I'm glad I found you," Jowan said. He looked panicked, eyes wider than normal and darting in every possible direction. 

"What is it?"

"They really are going to make me tranquil, Cera. I saw the document myself," he spat out in a whisper. 

"...How did you do that?" I asked. He skirted the question.

"I have to get out of here and I need your help. Please meet me in the chapel."

"The chapel? But why?" 

"Just do it. Please, Cera. For me," he begged. I couldn't say no, though something wasn't sitting right in my gut. There were alarms going off in my head but he was my friend. I sighed.

"Okay. I'll be right there. I just have to do something quick." We parted ways and I hurried back to my room. Some of the other students were lingering around their beds. At my bed was another elderly mage named Wynne. Wynne was the closest to Irving and she taught many classes, mostly about Creation. She had suggested that Anders tutor me when I was failing her class. Rumor had it that she was offered the position of First Enchanter but declined it, not wanting to be tied down that much. I had to admire that. She was also as motherly to the apprentices as Irving was fatherly to me. "Wynne, how are you?" I asked as I approached. 

The older woman, with her snow white hair pulled back in a short ponytail, cast me a warm smile and offered me a folded robe. It was an orange-mustard color. Not my favorite but I didn't have much of a choice. That was the color of robes for new mages. Yes, we were color coated as to our 'rank'. "I wanted to congratulate you on your Harrowing, Cera. You've come along way and you have such promise to go far beyond where you are now," Wynne said, her voice warm and calm. Even when she was annoyed in class, she was always calm about it.

"Thank you, Wynne."

"I also wanted to tell you that I met Cullen here last night and helped you into your nightclothes. Didn't want you to worry about that." The news was slightly disappointing but understandable.

"Thank you. I was curious about that."

"I know you have much to do to transition upstairs so I will let you be," Wynne bowed out of the room, leaving me to myself. I knew I had to meet Jowan but I wanted to put my new robes on first. These robes, while in a color I did not like, were very comfortable. They fit better but there wasn't much room to put anything but small clothes on underneath. Although, the little bit of design on the back made my butt look huge and like it was sticking out. Great. The mage robes gave me duck butt. I shook my head at that sad realization and left my old room to find Jowan in the chapel. 

Nobody really entered the chapel...well...no mages, really. Yes, we knew the teachings of Andraste and blah blah blah, but most of the teachings were excuses to keep the mages locked up. Anyway, the chapel was usually empty during the day except for one Chantry Sister that did nothing but pray at the altar. She was a little strange. I tried to speak to her once. She snapped at me.

Just as he said he'd be, Jowan was there off to the side, but he was not alone. I approached slowly, focused on the woman at his side. She was wearing Chantry robes. Her auburn hair was intricately braided back from her face...and she was giving puppy eyes to Jowan. What in Thedas was going on? "Jowan..." I said, stopping in front of them. They both beamed at me, well, the woman beamed at me. Jowan gave me a nervous smile. 

"Cera, I knew you'd come."

"Well, you asked me to. What's going on?" My gaze darted between them.

"I'm leaving the tower," he spoke softly. His eyes darted around. I didn't speak, but I didn't need to. I'm sure my face was speaking volumes for me. He had to be joking. "But I need your help to do it." The woman tugged on his robe sleeve. "We need your help." I let the silence stretch between us as I tried to register what he said. Finally, I straightened up and cleared my throat.

"Who is 'we', Jowan?" I asked, looking directly at the woman by his side. He reached out and grabbed her hand briefly then dropped it. Oh no.

"This is Lily. We've been seeing each other for some time now and we love each other. We want to start a life together, Cera."

"What!?" I shrieked, earning a 'sshhh' from the praying sister on the other side of the room. I repeated myself in a more hushed tone.

"Cera, you know what it's like. We're forbidden from having relationships."

"Especially relationships with Chantry members, Jowan. Are you crazy?" I wanted to yell at him for being so stupid but I couldn't. If anyone else heard the conversation, even as short as it had been, we'd all be joining Anders in the dungeon. "Forget just being arrested, you'll definitely be made tranquil. Jowan, please think about this."

"I've made up my mind," he stated. It was the most firm I had heard him all day. 

"Please. Surely you know how it feels-" Lily chimed in but I wasn't having it. 

"No. I don't. I know better than that," I snapped at her. She looked hurt. Jowan looked pissed. I shut my mouth, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. "Jowan, you have been my best friend since I came here. We have been through everything together." I opened my eyes to look at him again. "I'm sorry for getting huffy, I just...I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"But they're going to make me tranquil, Cera. I'd rather die than be made tranquil."

"But I don't want to lose you," I repeated myself. His blue eyes pleaded with me and I felt my will crumbling. "You're asking an awful lot of me, Jowan. What's your plan?"

"We need to destroy my phylactery. It's in the vault and I know how to get in, thanks to Lily. You just need to go get the fire rod from storage."

"But Owain doesn't let anyone in without proper documents."

"You're a sweet talker, Cera. See what you can do. We'll wait here."

"You owe me so much, Jowan," I said with a sigh. I wasn't happy about it. I actually felt terrible about it but he wasn't going to change his mind. If we were caught, we were going to be in so much trouble....

I dragged my feet down the hall and up the stairs toward the storage room. As I walked by Irving's office, I stopped, looking at the closed door. I had just passed my Harrowing. I knew some hated the tower, but I didn’t. It was my home. The people there were my family and Irving...I didn't want to disappoint him. Jowan would hate me for it but... I turned and knocked on First Enchanter Irving's door.


	4. Betrayal

"Come in," I heard from the other side of the door.  I couldn't back down then and I wasn't sure I wanted to.  I opened First Enchanter's study door and let myself in, closing it softly behind me.  Irving was behind his desk, magnifying glass in hand, and a large tome opened before him.  "Ah, come in, child. Have you settled into your new quarters?"

 

"Not yet, First Enchanter," I replied and clasped my hands behind my back.  "So...why is there a Grey Warden here?"

 

Irving offered a tired smile and set down the magnifying glass before offering me a seat.  I couldn't sit. My guilt forbade me to, so I declined with a brief shake of my head.

 

"There are things happening across Ferelden that require the Grey Wardens' attention.  He is here recruiting."

 

"Recruiting?  He is recruiting mages?"

 

"Perhaps he is, but that is not why you stopped by, child," he said, giving me a pointed stare.  Damn him for being so knowing. 

 

"First Enchanter...what if someone asked you to do something you knew was wrong, but they made you feel guilty for saying no and convinced you to do it anyway?"  I said. It sounded stupid.  Maybe he'd believe it to be a hypothetical scenario? 

 

"Jowan." Guess not. “Cera, you are a bright, young student and you have much to look forward to."

 

"How do you know I'm speaking of Jowan?"

 

"I have eyes and ears throughout the tower, child.  I know of Jowan's plight with the Chantry initiate. I am glad you have come to me, though I'm curious as to why."  The elder mage leaned back in his chair, eyeing me expectantly.  I finally took the seat.  My legs bounced up and down as soon as my behind was settled in that chair.

 

"He's my friend, but he's making a terrible decision.  I want to help him but I don't want to hurt my position here at the Circle.  First Enchanter, this is my _home_ ," I emphasized. "I tried to talk him out of it, but he won't listen.  And if you know about it, why aren't _you_ stopping him?"

 

"Calm down, Cera.  Take some deep breaths.  The fact that you came to me about this is appreciated.  I need you to help Jowan," he said. Did I hear him right?  Help Jowan? My brow furrowed in confusion. "I intend to go to Gregoir with this news but I want him to see that it is not just a mage causing issue.  I want him to see that the initiate was in this, as well."

 

"So...you want me to destroy Jowan's phylactery?"  I still couldn't believe it.

 

"We will apprehend him before he escapes," Irving explained.  He pulled a slip of paper from his desk, signed his name, and passed it to me.  I took it. It was a request for the flame rod from storage.

 

"How did you-?" I asked.  He tapped his ear and smiled.  It didn't make me feel any better.  I had to help Jowan knowing that he was going to be arrested.  If I hadn't stopped to tell Irving, I would be arrested, too, and it would have destroyed my life.  My heart sunk.  I felt nauseous. "Thank you," I muttered before taking my leave.  

 

With Irving's signed order, Owain granted me the flame rod, and I took it back to Jowan and Lily.  They were chatting among themselves in one of the pews. When I approached, my friend's eyes lit up.  "You got it," he beamed at me. I only nodded. "Let's go then. Lead the way to the vault, Lily." 

 

She did just that, though we had to slip by mages and templars alike.  I had to wonder if Irving set it up like that to make it easier for us. The main door to the vault was enchanted and the lock could only be open by both a templar and a mage.  I cast a spirit spell at the door, Lily spoke some formal words, and the lock clicked. The second door wasn't as complicated, it was just locked down. That was where the fire rod was needed.  Neither Jowan nor Lily actually wanted to touch the fire rod so I was left to use it on the door. The rod heated up and I touched it to the lock, the metal slowly melting down until it was no more.  I stepped back and Jowan pushed it open. The rest was easy. Too easy, but he didn't see it that way.

 

The three of us navigated through the vault's dim corridors.  One would think it'd be one large room, but no. It was a maze of turns.  After what seemed like endless wandering, we finally entered the room with the phylacteries.  There were shelves, boxes, and loose piles of blood filled vials with little tags on them. The glass was also etched with names.  How were we going to find Jowan's?  There didn't seem to be any sort of organization.  It would take us hours to sort through them all.

 

"We'll split up until we find it.  You should also look for yours, Cera.  Maybe they didn't take it yet," Jowan said as he began searching.  Lily went off in another direction and I another.

 

"Jowan, you know that as soon as the Harrowing is complete, the phylactery is moved.  I doubt mine will be here."

 

We searched and searched and then I found it.  Kicked it, actually, but that was because it had been among many piles.  I picked it up to be sure. The tag matched the etched name. "Jowan, here," I called to him.  Both he and Lily hurried over to me and I handed him the vial. He stared at it in wonderment for a moment.  "Please reconsider," I asked of him. "You don't need to do this." His face hardened, he raised his hand, and threw the vial on the ground.  Glass shattered and his blood splattered over the stone floor.

 

"It's done.  We did it. We actually did it," he repeated, immediately hugging Lily and kissing her on the lips.  

 

"We must hurry if we want to escape.  The templars might be by during their rounds," Lily noted.  She was right, but I knew what would happen next. They were going to be waiting for us.  The knots in my stomach tightened with every step until we exited the vault. We barely stepped out of the door.  Jowan stopped, Lily gasped.

 

"Halt!" Gregoir's voice boomed.  He was there with Irving and a handful of templars and the Grey Warden.  "If I didn't see it, I wouldn't have believed it. One of our own involved in this...this..."  He looked at me and pointed. "And _you_! Involved in this just after your Harrowing!"

 

"Gregoir, she was acting on my behalf," Irving said.  I immediately looked down, not wanting to see the hate in Jowan's eyes, though I could feel the burn.

 

"You what!?  Cera...how could you?  I trusted you!" His tone cut through me like a knife l, but I forced myself to look up at him.

 

"I'm sorry, Jowan."  That was all I had to offer.

 

"And you, initiate.  You will be taken to Aeonar for your crimes in assisting an apostate," Gregoir demanded.  Aeonar was a prison for all malificarum, (or blood mages), and those who opposed the Chantry.  It was not a place that anyone ever wanted to visit.

 

"No, you can't take her.  I won't let you!" Jowan pulled a knife from his belt.  At first I thought he was going to take a stand against the templars.  Instead, he stabbed it through his hand.  I think we were all stunned, not having much time to register what was happening.  My old friend began chanting, his blood lifting from his wound and swirling around him. He aimed it at us.  The blow hit me square in the chest, throwing me back to the ground.  The only two standing when I looked back at him were he and Lily.  She screamed.

 

"Blood mage!"

 

"Lily, let's go, quick."

 

"No!  I will not go with you, _blood mage_ ," she hissed and cowered toward the wall.  Jowan stuttered then looked at the templars who were rising to their feet. He ran.  None of them could chase him quick enough, but Gregoir bellowed orders nonetheless. I looked over at Irving who was still laying, not moving.  I hurried over to him, rolled him over on his back, and lifted his head. The old mage looked up at me with a grimace. 

 

"First Enchanter, are you okay?"

 

"I am fine, child.  Help me up." I did.  Once we were all standing. Lily gave herself up with the understanding of going to Aeonar as she kept crying about Jowan being a blood mage.  The Knight-Commander even tried to turn it against me, throwing accusations that I knew of Jowan's dark secret. I had no idea! I had never even suspected Jowan of being a blood mage.

 

"She will be taken to the dungeons!" Gregoir barked in my direction again.  My world started to close in on me, choking me, cutting off my air.  Breathing became harder.  I did was I thought was right, but I was still going to be punished?  But, but, but-

 

"That will not be necessary, Knight-Commander," Duncan spoke up. I had forgotten he was there.  "We are looking for new recruits for the Grey Wardens and I think she is just what we need.  I hereby conscript this young mage into the Grey Wardens," he said. Gregoir was seething by the declaration but Irving looked proud and placed a hand on my arm.  I didn't understand at first.  Irving patted my arm gently until my breathing evened out.

 

"Fine.  But, Cera, I wouldn't return," the Knight-Commander warned.  What?  I was being taken from my home, the only home I had known since I was a small child.  On top of it all, my best friend in the world was gone. He was a blood mage and now a wanted apostate.  He would be hunted.  I would never seen him again. My heart was heavy as I was led back to my room to pack my things, drifting along in a haze.  Before Duncan escorted me out of the Circle forever, Irving hugged me then took my hands when he stepped back.

 

"Cera, my child, I am so proud of everything you've accomplished here.  Keep your wits about you. Don't give into any demons, stay humble, and know that you can always come home, no matter what Gregoir may say," he said to me and those words meant so much.  My life would never be the same but I didn't know how much it was going to change.  I wrapped my arms around Irving.  One last hug before my first step outside of the Circle.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Cera's beginning is done. Now to the woods...


	5. Saniel: The Ancient Ruins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Saniel, the soon-to-be Dalish Grey Warden...
> 
> Da'assan (dah-ah-SAHN): little arrow  
> Ma vhenan'ara (mah VEY-nahn-AHR-ah): my heart's desire  
> Lethallan (leth-ah-LEEN; leth-ah-LAHN): clansman

"And let us rejoice in the betrothal of Tamlen and Maren!"  Everyone  cheered at the toast and drank from their cups. Standing by the Keeper of our clan were the newly betrothed couple.  Maren took care of the Hallas.  She was nice enough, but I did not believe she was a good match for Tamlen. Tamlen was one of the best hunters in the clan.  I was better. Our eyes locked from across the group and I offered a smile, though it was half-hearted. 

 

The clan spent the night eating and drinking where we wouldn't be bothered.  Currently, we were tucked away in the Brecilian Forest, our wagons circled around our camp.  We had a spot for the Halla, a few tents, and a large fire where we would frequently sit around and listen to stories told by one of the elders.  Our celebratory feasts would last the whole night, sometimes into early morning. I would typically be in the center of it, joining in the dancing, but I didn't feel much like dancing that night.  Instead I poured the rest of my wine down my throat, set the cup down, and walked off toward the woods.

 

Away from the firelight bathed camp, the night was serene with only faint echos of the joyous cries.  My bare feet connected with dirt and grass with each step, bringing a calm within me while I walked deeper into the forest.  If only I was alone...  Someone was following me. There was barely a sound, only a faint crunch of a leaf, but I could feel the presence strongly.  There was only one other person I knew who could travel so silently. "Shouldn't you be with your bride-to-be, Tamlen?" I asked, sounding more bitter than intended.  I turned around to face my follower and there he was, approaching me with a predatory grace.

 

"Da'assan..." he warned in regards to my tone.  He stood before me and placed his hands on my bare waist, the touch chilling my exposed skin.

 

"Tamlen..." I responded with the same tone of voice.  He smirked and bent down, capturing my lips with his own.  He tasted of the earth and smelled of the trees, a scent I adored.  A scent that was home. "This is now forbidden."

 

"It was always forbidden, Saniel.  Never stopped us before." He kissed me again, but I pushed him back before he could deepen it, my hands flat against his firm chest.

 

"This is different.  You are betrothed."

 

"To someone I do not wish to be," he replied.  He had a response for everything.

 

"It is the word of the Keeper.  Those are our laws.  We must stop."

 

"Do you want to?"  His blue-eyed stare held me in place.  I did not want to stop. I wanted to spend every day with him.  I wanted to wed him and lay with him, but I would never have that chance.  "Neither do I, ma vhenan'ara." How could a woman refute that? Tamlen gently placed his hands on my cheeks and kissed me again, softer and longing.  We sat in silence after that, under one of the large oak trees until the firelight died down, leaving us only the light from the moon and stars above. Only then did we return to camp and our own beds with the promise of one last hunt before the wedding.

  
  


*****

 

 

Tamlen and I were back out in the woods shortly after dawn, our bellies full of bread and cheese.  We both wore our Dalish armor, which was dark green in color. I had braided my long auburn hair and pinned it into a bun before we had left.  Both Tamlen and I had our quivers on our back and bows steady in our hands. Visually, it was the same as all of our hunts but there was a lingering silence that made it a little uncomfortable.  It was knowing how much things would change after the wedding. "You are quiet this morning, lethallan," my fellow hunter was the one to break the quiet.

 

"Should I not be?  I am listening for prey," I replied coldly.  If I was going to make it through the ceremony, I needed to shut my emotions off then.  It was a vow I had made myself that morning.  Tamlen was not having it, however. He crossed the few steps to me and backed me up against a tree, our bows lowered to our sides.  He had that predatory look again that sent delicious chills along my skin. There were things that I could only dream of doing with him, but I would never dare and neither would he.  We were firmly taught to save ourselves for our wedding day. Only then would we be allowed to join with another. "Tamlen, please stop. You are not making this any easier."

 

He caressed my cheek softly with his free hand, keeping his face close to mine, his eyes burning into mine.  "Saniel, da'assan, please understand one thing that will never change," he began softly and kissed the tip of my nose.  "I lo-" He stopped just as I heard the vicious rustling of trees, heavy breathing, and a crash. Tamlen held a finger to his lips and turned from me, stalking toward the noise.  I followed shortly after and when I passed through some brush, I saw what made the noise. There were three shemlen kneeling before Tamlen, who had an arrow waiting to be released. "Look what we have here, lethallan," he spat with such hatred.  Humans were reviled creatures that hunted us down and intruded on our lands. They were not welcome anywhere near camp.

 

"Please, please.  We just found a cave with jewels and stuff," one of the shems sputtered.  I pulled an arrow from my quiver and fixed it to my bow, taking aim myself.

 

"Cave?  There are no caves around here, shemlen," Tamlen glared.

 

"Yeah, there is.  Just east of here.  Please, we're just heading home."  I released my arrow. It lodged between the shem's eyes.  He fell over, eyes wide yet lifeless.  The other two paled.

 

"Whoops," I added, pulling out another arrow.

 

"We don't mean no harm!" another waved his hands in panic.

 

"I don't know.  What do you think, lethallan?  Should we let these shemlen live?"

 

"They have caught me on a rather bad day,"  I tsked. We both fired and the remaining two shemlen fell.  "Shall we continue?"

 

"But what about the cave, Saniel?"

 

"Tamlen, you know that there are no caves close to camp.  That is ridiculous," I shook my head.  "We need to bring meat back for the feast, for  _your_ wedding."

 

"But we could just check.  What's one more adventure, da'assan."

 

I put my hand on my hip and gave him a hard stare.  "Okay, we are going to go just so I can tell you that I told you so."

 

"Deal," he smirked and we were off.  The woods wound around until we found a path to take us east.  I really did not believe we would find anything, but there was.  Tamlen and I stood in front of the mouth to a cave...or something like a cave.  There were statues just inside the entrance.  Where did it come from?  We had hunted in the woods numerous times and never before had seen that place. "What say you now?"

 

"Gods," I mumbled.  I should have dragged him back to camp.  "We should tell the Keeper about this."

 

"We should explore.  Come on." Before I could say anything Tamlen entered the cave.  I could not let him alone so I followed. Aside from a few large spiders, there wasn't anything strange in the cave.  It was more a ruin than a cave, though.  We saw many statues, some that Tamlen knew little about. He said they were Ancient Elven, things we were trying to find out about again. The Keepers first, Merrill, researched our history constantly.  It was her mission in life.

 

The first strange thing we stumbled upon was deep in the ruins.  Skeletons rose from the floor. I did not believe my eyes at first, but there they were.  We struck them down with our arrows, which took more than normal prey.  "What was that?" I asked, looking over at Tamlen, though he wasn't looking back at me.  I followed his gaze across the room to a large mirror with gold designs framing it.

 

"Do you hear that, lethallan?" he asked me.  I did not hear anything but he seemed to. Tamlen slowly crossed the room to the mirror and I followed him.  The closer I got, I could hear the whispers of something...something I could not understand. The glass swirled a hypnotic black and violet.  Something in the mirror.  A figure. Was that what was speaking?

 

"Tamlen, we should go get the Keeper," I repeated.  My brain told me that was a good idea but my feet did not want to move.  Tamlen was closest to the mirror. He reached out and touched the swirling glass. The interaction caused a ripple in the colors.  It glowed and brightened to extraordinary levels. I closed my eyes and held my hands up to shield from the illumination.  I had not expected to be slammed by an invisible force, throwing me back off of my feet.  I felt the impact of the stone floor against my back.  My head bounced off something.  Pain exploded on the back of my head and then there was nothing.


	6. Saniel: Corruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Da'len (dah-LEN): little child  
> Ma serannas (ma SEHR-ahn-ahs): My thanks

My eyes fluttered open, their haze struggling to focus on the canvas overhead.  I was no longer in the cave. The wagon's roof was above my head and there was a wool blanket over me. I pushed the blanket down my body.  It was too hot. I was no longer in my armor but instead a tan frock that reached my knees.  Sweat stained the neckline and under the arms. I wiped at the perspiration on my forehead. It burned.  Was that truly my own skin that was that hot?  My arms wobbled as I tried to push myself to sit up.  My head throbbed, my eyes burned, and I was terribly dizzy. Still, I pushed myself off the cot and held any object I could find to assist me in exiting the wagon. 

 

Camp was tense.  There was no laughter, just long faces.  My eyes searched them all for Tamlen. Surely he knew how I got home.  I took two steps away from the wagon before I toppled.  Without the support, my legs gave out from under me and I fell to the ground.  "Saniel!" a voice called.  Strong arms lifted me up and then I saw him.  Fenarel.  He was a dear friend of Tamlen and mine. "You're awake. How are you feeling?" he shot off the questions, which must have drawn attention because the Keeper was soon over us.

 

"Where's Tamlen?" I asked, my voice straining from the effort.  I needed water. Fenarel's face fell. "Fenarel..."

 

"Tamlen's gone," he replied.  

 

"Fenarel, she will be fine.  Please attend to your chores," Keeper Mahathari intruded.  My friend made sure I was on my feet and only let go when the Keeper placed an arm out to help me.  It was an odd gesture by her and she let go as soon as I was steady enough to stand on my own. 

 

"Keeper, what did he mean Tamlen is gone?"

 

"Tamlen has vanished."

 

"I do not understand.  The mirror- How did I get here?"

 

"You were found and brought back to us, but he did not find Tamlen.  Tell me about this mirror," the Keeper pressed. Her voice was always even and steady, never faltering or showing much emotion.  I had to search what I could remember about what happened.

 

"Tamlen and I were hunting.  We found some shemlen who spoke of a cave to the east.  We went to look and it was there but there were statues of elves, Keeper.  Then we found a mirror. It was...strange but alluring. I think he touched it and that is all I remember," I explained.  My body shivered involuntarily and I wrapped my arms around myself.

 

"Hmm..."  The older woman lost herself in thought.  I focused on her until another approached us.  It was not a clansman, but a human. I leered at him through the haze.  

 

"What is a _shemlen_ doing here unchallenged?" I hissed.

 

"Da'len, mind your manners.  This is Duncan. He is a Grey Warden and he is the one who brought you back to us," she warned.  I lowered my head and shivered again. The sun was out. I should not have been cold unless I was sick, but I don't remember being sick...

 

"We searched the cave, Keeper Mahathari, but there was no sign of the man you seek," Duncan spoke softly.

 

"That is impossible.  Where would he have gone?" I asked, looking back up at the man.  I did not like him, but he had helped. If the Keeper was not uneasy with him, then I had no reason to be.

 

Duncan let out a sigh, his face pulling down in a saddened way.  "I can only think of one reason. That mirror is now broken and it bleeds dark energy.  Keeper, I would suggest moving your clan from this area."

 

"Ma serannas, Duncan.  I already have the clan preparing to move.  We will hold a vigil for Tamlen and leave at dawn."

 

"Then I suggest we leave now," Duncan said, looking over to me.  I just stared back. What did he mean?

 

"Yes, you should," I replied.  Mahathari placed a hand on my arm.

 

"Da'len, you are going with him."

 

"What?  But, Keeper...why?"

 

"You are ill, da'len.  You have been for two days now."

 

"Two days?"  

 

"The mirror held a dark power," Duncan then spoke.  "It is a corruption that comes right from the darkspawn and it has taken hold of you.  You only have a few days to live." His words punched me in the gut. I looked at the Keeper for any sign that he was lying and I would be okay.  She did not make any move.

 

"That is impossible.  If you speak the truth and I am to die, why would I go with you?"

 

"There is only one possible cure and you need to come with me to receive it."

 

"...And then I can come home?" I asked.  Mahathari shook her head.

 

"I am afraid not, da'len.  The Gods have chosen a new path for you.  You must go with Duncan."

 

"And what of Tamlen?"

 

"He is lost, Saniel.  We will hold a vigil for him tonight," she repeated herself.  That was not what I wanted to hear. He could not be gone. I could not be deathly ill.  None of it made any sense.

 

"The only cure entails that you become a Grey Warden."

 

"A what?  I do not want to be a Grey Warden, whatever that is.  Keeper, I am staying here."

 

"No, you are not.  You are going with Duncan and you will fulfill the destiny that the fates have laid before you.  Now, gather your things." 

 

It was the hardest thing I had done at that point in my life. To pack up my life and leave my home, knowing that my dearest friend was lost.  They said he was dead, but they did not have a body. I had to hold on to hope that he was yet alive and I was going to find him.

 

With my things packed, I said my goodbyes to my clansmen and followed Duncan away from our camp.  A short distance away was another small camp, a young woman waiting there with shoulder-length raven black hair and bright violet eyes.  She smiled at us and stood. "New recruit?" she asked.

 

"Yes, but we must move fast.  We need to reach Ostagar by tomorrow evening, Cera.  We cannot rest here for long," Duncan ordered. He had not been joking.  There was little time for rest and by the end of the next day, I could barely walk.  I collapsed with Ostagar in our sights.  Duncan had to carry me the rest of the way.  I was too weak to care. I could barely keep my eyes open. With me limp in his arms, he led the other recruit into the camp.  While he spoke to her, Cera, he laid me in a tent to rest. I stayed there until he retrieved me and carried me up to a part of the ruined tower.  It was night and a few others awaited us. 

 

I watched what happened through cloudy eyes.  The others kept giving me funny looks, but I could not understand what was being said.  It started to sound like a different language to me, more different than the common tongue, and the strangest song rose in my ears, drowning out all other sound.  Eventually Duncan walked over to me holding a large cup. Another man held me up and together they had me drink from the cup.  The liquid was thick and metallic. I gagged but they kept pouring. I was thankful when they stopped. The moment was brief before I passed out again and dreamed of a dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to reiterate, I am skipping around and trying to focus on the inbetweens, but if you want The Joining from Cera's perspective, let me know in the comments and I'll write something up.


	7. To Be A Warden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Ostagar over, the crew sets up camp outside Lothering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My, it has been forever, hasn't it? I said this would be quick postings and I apparently lied. When rereading, I saw there was much that needed fixing and edits. Lots of edits. I'm only now getting the bug to go through this. I'll try not to leave you hanging for that long again.

Their first days of being a Grey Warden were far from what either woman expected. After the Joining, Saniel's health returned and she was back to her own self again. They had lost Duncan, the man who saved them both, not to mention the rescue by Flemeth. Ostagar had not gone as planned. They also managed to pick up a few companions along the way, including their own personal merchant and his son.. Cera took to her companions far better than Saniel. The elf didn't appreciate traveling with so many humans, though the Quanari made up for it. He was quiet and kept to himself. Morrigan wasn't awful, either, though she was still an entitled human.

They set up camp shortly after leaving Lothering on the way to Redcliffe castle. Saniel offered to get their dinner, though Sten was skeptical that she could do it. The young elf slipped off her boots, grabbed her bow and quiver, and disappeared into the woods. It was her first time hunting since _t_ _hat_  day. So much had happened since then and there hadn't been time to dwell on her loss of Tamlen. The one time she could have, Alistair had mourned Duncan. Cera was better able to deal with that than Saniel. Alistair was nice enough, she supposed, but he was still a shemlen. There were many reasons that humans left a bad taste in her mouth, one being the murder of her father, another being their attack on her home. As for Cera... No, the mage fell right in with Alistair.

Being back in the woods stilled Saniel’s soul. The rustling leaves and chirping birds offered her a sense of home she feared she had lost. Her feet bare, Saniel stalked through the woods until she spotted their meal. She stepped behind the trunk of the nearest tree, slung her bow over her back, and jumped to catch the lowest thick hanging branch. She pulled herself up, her movement dangerously rustled the leaves as she crawled to the best spot. Perched on the base of a branch, Saniel removed her bow and nocked an arrow. She took aim. Slow breath in. Slow breath out. The deer fed on the grass without a care in the world. The elf took a slow breath in and paused enough to released the arrow before letting it back out. The deer dropped and she climbed down from the tree. Dragging the carcass back to camp was more tiresome than she remembered, but it was different not having a helping hand with her.

Back at camp all eyes fell on her with the _thump_  of the carcass hitting near the fire. Without a word, she set down her bow and quiver, and pulled a small dagger from her belt.

"Are you...really going to do that here?" Alistair asked her. Saniel glanced at the blonde male who was sitting near with Cera and Leliana.

"If you do not wish to eat what I have hunted, then feed yourself, _shem_ ," she spat at him.

"That's...that's not what I meant, per se...but- Wouldn't it be best done away from the camp? It's going to be a little messy is all."

"Then close your eyes," Saniel said pointedly and dug the dagger into the deer's torso.

Alistair looked away but Cera didn't, though she was focused more on the redheaded elf. The mage was trying to figure out why the elf was short with everyone. It could have been a cultural thing but Cera was speaking to an ex-templar. Hell, they were traveling with one and she held no grudges. Then again she hadn't had too much of a problem with the templars in the Circle. Still...

"Anyway, as I was saying, since you still have some of your templar mojo we should have a safe word in case you ever feel the need to smite a baddy," Cera suggested.

Alistair cracked a smile at that. "Cheese. That should be the word," he chuckled.

"Cheese? Sure, why not. Morrigan, if you hear the word 'cheese', prepare to feel smited!" Cera yelled across camp to where Morrigan keeping far from the rest of them.

"Do quiet yourselves. Some of us are trying to rest," was the reply that came and sent Cera into a fit of giggles. Alistair was still recovering from the loss of Duncan so his laugh didn't reach the same level as it had before the battle of Ostagar.

"I think she agrees with the safe word, Alistair,” the mage said after her giggles quieted. “I've never been smited and I don't wish to be. I have seen it done before and, no, thank you."

"I'll do my best not to smite you, Cera. I had only just learned it before Duncan conscripted me." The name sobered the mood immediately. The fire popped and crackled, urging them to rekindle their banter.

"What changes about you after the Joining?" They both looked to Saniel when she spoke up. The deer was still being skinned. She didn't look away from her task.

"Didn't Duncan...? Oh..." Alistair sighed. "Well, other than the terrible nightmares, not too much. Most noticeable is an increase in appetite and ability to hold your liquor better than most. Then there's...well, it's not definite but since you're both women... It is almost impossible to have children," he explained. Saniel kept working, but Cera frowned. It was silly for the news to affect her since it was against the rules for any mage to have a child. If a mage just happened to get pregnant, it was taken care of.

"Almost impossible?" the mage asked him.

"Well, there haven't been many women in the Grey Wardens so it isn't proven. If it is possible, it is extremely difficult. And the other thing is..." He sucked in a deep breath of air before continuing. "Your life is cut shorter. Because of the darkspawn taint, you only have about thirty years to live from your Joining and that's at the most. According to known records, that is."

"Then what happens?"

"Toward the end, the Grey Warden will submit to The Calling, as Duncan called it. Once you can feel the pull of the darkspawn and the old god, there's only little time left. Most Grey Wardens head to the Deep Roads so they can kill as many darkspawn as possible before their end comes," he continued. He had noticed that Saniel's movements had slowed and she sat back on her heels.

"The Calling..." the elf muttered before turning her head toward her fellow Grey Wardens. "The corruption is inside of us, right?"

"Yes. That's why we can sense the darkspawn and they us."

"When Duncan found me, he said I had the corruption in me then. It almost killed me," she recounted. "So why did the Joining heal me?"

"Duncan never told you?"

"No, he did not."

"What corrupted you? Darkspawn?" Cera intervened.

"A mirror. I was hunting with a clansman and we found a mirror, an _Eluvian_ , as the Dalish call it. He touched it and that was all I remember. When I awoke, Duncan took me from my home. I barely remember traveling to Ostagar or the Joining."

"You looked terrible," Cera added, an answer that normally would have earned her a glare from the elf but there was none that time.

"Unfortunately, I don't know very much about the Joining ritual or what cured you from your sudden illness. What happened to your friend?" Alistair asked her.

Saniel turned her green eyes down to her lap and started butchering the deer again. "He is gone."


	8. The End of a Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Redcliffe has been overrun by the dead and the team sneaks into the castle to find a familiar face...

Nobody had been prepared for what they found in Redcliffe, especially Alistair.  The entire village had been in a state of disarray, attacked nightly by the risen dead.  Cera didn't need to be told it was magic at work. She could feel it in the air when they fought them, smell the sulfur and tang that accompanied it.  The secret passage they used to get to the castle, though narrow, only seemed to bother Saniel. The elf was stoic, but it was her intent focus forward and hurried state that tipped off the mage.  The feeling of magic choked her when they entered the dungeons of the castle. The tear in the veil pricked her skin in a way that was simultaneously comforting and disconcerting.

The group continued into the stench of mold mingled with excrement.  Ahead of them, a fiend reached into one of the cells and whoever was on the other side was shrieking something fierce.  Saniel sent an arrow right through its head before a sword could be drawn.

They cautiously approached the cell, unsure of what they’d find.  Surprisingly, it was a man, not that anyone would know from his sissy screaming.  However, he was beaten and bloody. His right arm hung limp at his side and his greasy, black hair was matted to his head.  The prisoner had not been treated well. 

Cera peered into the cell around Alistair’s frame and froze.  "Jowan?" she meekly asked. The prisoner looked at her with sad, swollen eyes.  Alistair looked down at his mage companion and moved aside. 

"You know him?" he asked her.  She simply nodded and moved closer to the door, wrapping her thin fingers around the the bars.

"May we have a moment?" she asked her companions.  It took longer than she would have preferred, but they moved away.  "Jowan, what happened?" Cera nearly whispered, not wanting the others to hear.  

"Cera..."  her old friend, too, moved toward the cell door and rested his forehead on the bars near hear own.  "I'm surprised you're out of the Circle. How did you manage that one? Reprise for screwing me over?"  His words were weak, strained, but still bitter. 

"I'm so sorry, Jowan, but they knew with or without me.  First Enchanter was already planning on leading Gregoir to you.  I did try to stop you."

"But why?” he turned his face up toward her, forehead still against the grimy bar.  “Why didn't you want me to be happy?"

Her heart twisted.  "I did want you to be happy, but…  Why did you resort to blood magic?"  The question silenced Jowan's soft whine.  Jowan looked away from her inquiring violet gaze.  

"I didn't have a choice," he mumbled.

"There is always a choice."  Cera reached through the bars, gently stroking his grimy, blood stained cheek with her knuckles.  "Why are you here in the dungeons, Jowan?" From what Lady Isolde had told them on the hill, Cera was sure she already knew the answer.  He had poisoned the Arl but she didn't want to believe it. Jowan leaned into her hand and closed his eyes.

"After leaving the Circle, I was found by Lady Isolde.  She wanted me to teach her son how to control his magic.  She was afraid of him being taken to the Circle. Loghain must have caught wind of it because he approached me next and paid me a great sum to poison the Arl.  I...I wasn't thinking, Cera. I just wanted to help her son and the money would get me away and maybe I could find Lily again..."

"Lily was taken to Aoner, Jowan."  Lily also didn't want to be around a blood mage, but her friend seemed to have had a hard enough time.  Despite his stupid decisions, she still cared about him. "Is the Arl's son really a mage? Did he release those creatures?"

"He is, but I don't know.  I think he might have." Cera removed her hand from his cheek and held onto the bar again before lightly banging her forehead against the bars with a sigh.  He flinched at the contact so close to his head. She was frustrated and sad, but mostly frustrated that her friend could be so incredibly stupid. "Cera, it wasn't supposed to be like this."

"It didn't have to be."

"But they were to make me tranquil."

"And so you took to blood magic?" the female mage softly snapped at him.  It was an inexcusable practice and just an excuse for a scared mage. 

"You ran away, didn't you?" he accused.  

Oh, right.  Jowan had left before Duncan conscripted her.  Cera sighed.

"No, I didn't.  I was conscripted into the Grey Wardens, much to Gregoir's dismay.  I didn't want to leave. I know most of you hated it, but the Circle was  _ my home _ ," she emphasized.  "Yes, I like being out in the world and breathing in the fresh air and not being constantly under the templars' scrutiny, but I do miss it, Jowan.  I miss the people, the practice... I miss it."

"Then go back."

"I can't.  I have a new duty now, Jowan.  I am a Grey Warden, not a Circle mage"  Why wasn't he understanding it?

"I'm sure your templar boyfriend is very saddened by it, too," he jabbed with a frown.  Cera lifted her head and gave him a quizzical look before glancing over at Alistair. Templar boyfriend?  Jowan lifted his own head, too, noticing her confusion. "Cullen."

"Cullen?" she replied, still not understanding.

"After your Harrowing, I heard people talking.  Someone saw him kiss you while he was carrying you back to your room."

"What?  If this is an attempt at covering up your faults-"

"Cera, we have to go," Alistair called to her.  She looked over at him and nodded.

"Cera, can I ask you for a favor?  Even after all I've done?" Jowan moved closer to the bars once again.  She stayed quiet and waited for the request. "Please let me go. I'll disappear and you'll never hear from me again."

"You can't ask me to do that, Jowan."

"Please.  I am  _ begging _  you," he pleaded, but she just shook her head, released her grip on the bars, and stepped back.  Her stomach soured. What had happened to her friend? Any kindness she had shown vanished. Was that how Duncan had been able to kill Ser Jory?  Because of his duty? 

"Jowan, you used blood magic and fled the Circle, brandishing yourself as maleficarum.  You poisoned the Arl of Redcliffe under Loghain's name and taught a mage child enough for him to unleash demons unto a city and you want me to let you go?"  She recounted. He opened his mouth to refute but she stopped him by holding up her hand. "I will not let you go from here. When we stop this madness, you will face justice with the Circle."

"Is this my friend talking or the Grey Warden?"

"A mage who knows the injustice your actions will bring upon the mages at the Circle.  Goodbye, Jowan," she stated coldly and turned from Jowan, swallowing down the lump in her throat.  She didn't look back. She could never look back again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of those scenes that pushed me to write this. I know they couldn't throw it in the game, which is great because it left so much room for head cannons, but they clearly set up the friendship between Amell and Jowan and this scene just wasn't what I wanted it to be. I was yelling at my T.V. like, "You asshole! You betrayed me and now you want me to let you go? Why would I do that!?" Cera's nicer than I am, but still. This is also a second show of her stance regarding mages. I wonder how any future run ins with Anders may go...


	9. Mages Asunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Redcliffe will be fine if they leave for a quick trip to Kinloch Hold. It will be quick...right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say that I would be jumping around. Just entering another FYI in case you've come in part way through. I'm also just posting on a roll as much as I can before it stops...or I need to go to bed. One or the other.

"We will go to the Circle.  I know First Enchanter will help us."

That was the final decision by Cera.  Conner was possessed and there were few cures but with Morrigan's help, they had a way to dispose of the demon.  Killing the child was out of the question, no matter how much Saniel pushed for it. The elf had argued that the village would be under attack.  Putting their heads together, the women decided that Cera, Alistair, and Leliana would travel to the Circle. Saniel, Morrigan, Sten, and Umaro, their war hound, would stay and protect Redcliffe Village.  

It had been a several day journey to the Circle and they had barely stopped on the way.  Lake Calenhad separated the tower from land and there was only one boat that ferried templars to and fro. On the shore was an inn and tavern, which would have been a nice stop at if there had been time.  Cera argued with the templar on the dock until he finally gave in and ferried them across the lake. Looking up at the tower brought back many memories for Cera, most of them positive.

They were escorted into the main entrance of the tower, which would normally have a few templars patrolling but that was not the case at the current moment.  Templars rushed around, some were being tended to by healers, but not any mages. Where were the mages? Alistair and Leliana allowed Cera to take the lead since she was most familiar with the Circle.  She quickened her pace to the templar standing in front of the closed doors to the first floor of the tower. The templar turned around from where he was giving orders, his voice distinct. He looked at her companions first and asked, "Who let them in?"  Then he looked down at Cera. For a brief moment, his eyes softened when he saw her then hardened once more. "What are you doing here?"

"Knight-Commander Gregoir, what's going on?" Cera pressed, frantic energy yanking the words out of her mouth.

The older man sighed and ran his hand through his hair.  "Blood mages. Abominations have taken the tower."

"What?  What about the mages?  I don't see any... Irving?"

"First Enchanter Irving is still inside," Gregoir replied.  "I don't believe any mages are alive and those that are are subject to becoming abominations.  I have sent word to Denerim for the Right of Annulment."

"You can't do that!" Cera yelled and those around them ceased talking.  "There must be some still alive and unaffected. Please, let me in to look.  I can also check for any other templars that might-"

"Cera, you are no longer a mage of the Circle.  You have no say in what goes on here and you have no obligation to help."

"Please let me try.  If I go in and it looks bad, then go forth with the annulment, but you can't just kill everyone in there.  There could be innocent survivors in there!" she pleaded. It wasn't usually in her nature but the Right of Annulment was insane.  

"And what makes you sure you could help anyone left alive?"

"Because it's me," she replied.  "I've seen worse than abominations recently and they don't scare me at all.  I need the Circle's help to defeat this Blight and I will not see my home fall to the Right of Annulment," Cera stated with determination.  "If there are survivors, mages or templars, I will bring them out."

"If I let you through those doors, I will not let you back out unless First Enchanter Irving stands before me and declares the Circle Tower safe.  But once the Right of Annulment arrives..."

"I understand.  Deal." There wasn't a way she wouldn't agree to that.  With her companions by her side, they entered the first floor of the tower.  Just as Gregoir said he would, the doors shut and locked.

The halls of the tower's first floor were no longer filled with rambunctious newcomers and senior enchanters trying to reign them in.  There was no laughter or templars scolding mages for playing around or causing mischief. The silence was eerie. They looked in the apprentice quarters.  The beds were toppled over and skewed, trunks were open, and mirrors shattered. Cera remembered back when she had lived there in those quarters. It was many many years ago, not long after she first arrived.  Her bed had been in the far corner...

"There's nothing.  No people, no blood.  There's no sign of any abominations here," Alistair noted as they carefully walked around the debris.

"They must be further within the tower," Leliana said.  Cera stayed quiet. The silence was broken by a child's scream echoing through the corridor.  

With hope, the young mage bolted out of the living quarters and around the hall to where the sound was coming from.  It was a room near the library. Four children huddled together to the side and there were three adult mages. The entrance to the library was covered over with a purplish colored energy barrier, yet a rage demon slipped through.  The fiery demon was one that Cera remembered from her Harrowing, the one she fought with Mouse. One mage, wearing a red robe, raised her staff and disposed of the rage demon rather quickly.

"Wynne," Cera called to the older woman who stumbled after the demon vanished.

"Cera?" Wynne looked at the young mage and her companions.  "How did you get in here? What are you doing here?"

"Long story, but Gregoir let us through."

"The Right of Annulment...has it arrived?"

"Not yet, but it's on the way.  Where's First Enchanter? And what happened here?" Cera asked.  She walked closer to Wynne so they weren't yelling across the room.  Wynne shook her head and frowned.

"Uldred," was the senior enchanter's short reply.  Uldred was another senior enchanter in the Circle and had taught one of Cera's classes on Spirit.  He was odd and not well liked in the Circle. "He and some students unleashed demons. He took Irving up to the Harrowing chamber, though I do not know why."

"We must go after him.  Alistair, Leliana, let's go," she nodded toward the barrier.

"Cera, I will go with you.  Petra, stay with the children."

That phrase was a sign from the Maker himself.  Cera would never have asked the elder woman to join them, but, boy, was Cera glad she offered.  "Thank you, Wynne," the Warden mage was grateful to have the help of a skilled healer on their side.  

Wynne proved to be a great help through the many floors of the tower.  Once they proceeded into the library, the results of Uldred's doing was blatant.  A wretched smell hung in the air. Pink, puss-filled bubbles climbed the tower walls.  Abominations, blood mages, and demons roamed the halls and attacked on sight. Even the templars had been turned.  In one instance, they walked in on a Desire demon enthralling a templar. The demon promised him family and a loving wife and when Cera interrupted, the templar attacked instead of the demon.  The deaths seemed unnecessary, but when the choice was kill or be killed, not much thought had to be given.

After what seemed like non stop fighting, they finally reached the stairs up to the Harrowing Chamber.  Cera walked in first and stopped short, stumbling forward when Alistair collided into her back. Beside the staircase was a tall cylinder radiating potent energy.  Within the barrier was another templar, this one kneeling on the ground, praying and rocking. Cera walked closer and reached out to touch the barrier but thought better of it.  There was no telling what would happen if she did so she lowered her hand. The templar looked up then and their eyes met.

“Cullen,” she gasped.  He stayed kneeling but glared at her with such hatred.

"This trick again?  I know what you are," he spat, poking his finger toward the barrier.  "It won't work. I will stay strong..." He put his hands together in prayer once more.  The Warden was flabbergasted at his response to her presence.

"Cullen, don't you recognize me?" she asked, kneeling down to try and catch his eye again.  He lowered his face to his hands.

"Only too well...how far they must have delved into my thoughts..."  He sounded pained.

"The boy is exhausted," Wynne spoke up as she approached Cera.  "And this cage...I've never seen anything like it... Rest easy.  Help is here." Her attempt at soothing had the opposite effect. Cullen glanced back up, locking eyes with the young mage before looking down again.

"Enough visions!  If anything in you is human...kill me now and stop this game!  You broke the others, but I will stay strong, for my sake...for theirs...  Sifting through my thoughts... tempting me with the one thing I always wanted but could never have..." he spoke to himself and continued rocking.  Cera was taken aback by his words. Surely he didn't mean... "Using my shame against me... my ill-advised infatuation with her...a mage, of all things."

"Cullen," she breathed but he didn't seem to hear her.

"I am so tired of these cruel jokes...the tricks...these..."

"This is no trick.  We're here to help," she tried again to get through to him.  Cullen snapped his attention at her and stood up, his sudden movement made her jump to her feet, as well.

"Silence!  I'll not listen to anything you say.  Now begone!" he yelled. They all continued to watch him as he squeezed his eyes shut then opened them.  "Still here? But that's always worked before. I close my eyes, but you are still here when I open them."

"I'm real and I'm here to help you, Cullen."  Yet another attempt but this one didn't fall on deaf ears.  The poor templar's face flashed with realization then immediately hardened.  

"The Maker knows my sin, and I pray that he will forgive me."

"...Why does it cause you so much pain?"

"It was a foolish fancy of a naive boy.  I know better now," he sneered with disdain.  "Why have you returned to the tower? How did you survive?"

"I killed everything in my way," Cera responded, raising her own defenses just as he had.  She wouldn’t show him the hurt his words caused.

"Uldred deserves to die most of all.  They caged us like animals...looked for ways to break us.  I'm the only one left... They turned some into...monsters.  And...there was nothing I could do... And to think I once thought we were too hard on you."

"We're not all evil, Cullen."

"Only mages have that much power at their fingertips.  Only mages are so susceptible to the infernal whisperings of the demons," he continued on until Wynne stepped in.

"This is a discussion for another time.  Irving and the other mages who fought Uldred.  Where are they?" she asked him.

"They are in the Harrowing Chamber.  The sounds coming from there...oh, Maker..."

"We must hurry, Cera.  They are in grave dangers.  I am sure of it."

"You can't save them.  You don't know what they've become," Cullen said.  

"I am a mage, too, Cullen, and I will stop Uldred," Cera determined.  For another brief moment, concern flashed across the templar's face.

"But you haven't been up there.  You haven't been under their influence.  They've been surrounded b-by blood mages whose wicked fingers snake into your mind and corrupt your thoughts," he spoke, clearly reliving through the torture he had been put through.  "You have to end it, now. Before it's too late. To ensure this horror is ended, you must kill everyone up there."

"We will do no such thing!  We will save anyone who can be saved."

"And we are running out of time," Wynne urged.  Cera cast Cullen one last glance before she followed the others to the Harrowing Chamber.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one, but this scene didn't quite leave me wanting more. Cullen's script with a female Amell...oh yes. Totally confirmed my hunch that he totally crushed on her and I may have squealed like a school girl. Can you blame me, though? It's Cullen.


	10. A Fear Too Great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Traveling back to Redcliffe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have no idea what it would feel like to be smited. In the game it's an AOE attack and I can see that. It causes knockdown and can stun, so I took from that.

The Circle Tower had been saved.  First Enchanter Irving had be tortured by Uldred, but he withstood it until the end.  With Uldred and the other blood mages and abominations dead, Wynne had healed Irving before Cera and Alistair helped him down the stairs to the main door.  They pounded on it until Gregoir opened it. The Right of Annulment had just arrived, but it was, thankfully, not needed. Gregoir's conditions had been met and Irving declared the Circle safe once again.  The Grey Wardens had the promise of some mages when they faced the Archdemon. Wynne asked Irving if she could travel with the Wardens for their journey and her request had been approved. Then there was the matter of Connor.  Irving agreed to assist and planned on bringing a few mages with him. Gregoir required them to be escorted by a few templars, just in case. One of those templars was Cullen. The Knight-Commander said he needed fresh air, to get out of the Circle.

They left the Circle of Magi at first light.  Redcliffe Village was waiting, as were their companions.  The templars spread through the line, the majority hanging toward the back.  The first night at camp was filled with tension. Grief emanated from Irving and Wynne, as well as some of the other mages.  Even Cera was upset by what had occurred at the Circle.

As a Grey Warden, Cera volunteered to be on first watch.  It surprised her when Cullen demanded he take watch with her, then he added it was in case she tried anything.  The others disappeared into their tents. Alistair was the last to leave and only at Cera's insistence that she'd be fine.  

Then it was just Cera and Cullen.  She sat near the fire. He stood like a statue above her, hands clasped behind him.  She pulled her knees to her chest and poked at the fire with a stick, smirking at the sparks she kicked up.  That was her magical wheelhouse. She had always excelled at her primal magic courses and had taken a shine to lightning and ice.  Fire was fun for her, too. She gave another poke then glanced up at Cullen. "Cullen, may I ask you something?"

"If you must," he curtly replied.  He had never used a sharp tone with her before she saw him in the tower, a caged mess.

"You can sit down, you know.  We'll be able to hear any animals and I'll be able to tell when darkspawn are near," she insisted.  He didn't budge. He didn't answer her at all so she sighed and continued. "Did you mean what you said up in the tower?"  The mage looked back at the fire and gave it an aggravated poke.

"That all mages should have been purged?  Yes."

"That's not what I meant."

"The Maker kno-"

"Knows your sins.  I heard you before."  Cera tossed the stick into the flames and stood up to face the templar.  He didn't look at her. His eyes were focused straight ahead so she moved closer to him.  "Is that really how you've felt this whole time?"

"I was naive."

"You have feelings.  Man up and get over it...and look at me, damn it," she demanded.  He didn't so she placed a hand on his armored chest and pushed as hard as she could.  The templar snatched her wrist and held tight, eliciting a gasp from her lips. She hadn't thought he'd do that.  His attention was focused solely on her then and he tugged her arm until her body collided with his. He grabbed her other wrist.  He wanted control. He wanted to protect himself from her magic.

"Templars don't have feelings for mages," he replied, his deep voice rumbled through her chest from their closeness.  Cera swallowed hard. The air was chilled but he was making her feel rather warm. Their bodies were pressed together as he held her wrists captive.  Their faces were only inches apart. The woman had never been one to back down, especially when certain matters were involved. Cullen, though... The rumor Jowan had heard was right and it made her see him in a different light.  It made her entertain the idea.

"But men have feelings for women," she retorted softly and lifted her chin higher.  His internal struggle was shining in his eyes as his gaze drifted from her eyes to her lips then back up.  The silence was disturbed only by the crackling of the fire. Cera's violet gaze locked on Cullen's face as it neared her.  His breath mingled with her's. Her heart sped up in anticipation.

" _ Witch _ ," he hissed, taking her lips with his in a kiss that coaxed a moan from her.  She gave into the kiss, running her tongue along his bottom lip until he granted her access.  It was enjoyable. It was very enjoyable and the feeling she got was one she never felt from anyone before.  

Cera had been the one to pull away when sinister energy zipped up her spine.  She gasped and retreated, struggling to get her hands from Cullen's grasp. Darkspawn were closing in quick.  It seemed to take the templar a moment to shake off from their kiss but when he did, he immediately let go, looking at her as if she was going to lash out and bite him.  The darkspawn... The mage stayed quiet as she listened for any hint of where they might appear. She started to conjure an ice spell, her hands taking on a blue glow.

She felt the air yanked from her being.  The spell broke and she fell to her knees, panting to catch her breath.  Her muscles were weak. She heard the Genlock snort before it appeared in a puff of smoke and raised a dagger to bring down on her.  Cera looked up just in time to see an arrow pierce the side of its skull. Leliana.

The Warden mage had been useless for the attack on their camp.  It had only been a few rogue Genlocks. Alistair and Leliana had them taken care of before anyone else left their tents.  By the end of it, Cera had her breathing back to normal and was just feeling like she could stand up. She didn't have to try, though.  Alistair was by her side, helping her up. "Are you okay? What happened?" he asked, looking for any sort of wound.

"I sensed the darkspawn, prepped a spell, and then I felt..." she looked over at Cullen, who didn't look concerned in the least bit.  

"Did you smite her!?" Alistair bellowed at Cullen.  The templar didn't respond to the accusation. By that point, Irving had left his tent and watched the exchange.

"Is that true, Cullen?" the elderly mage asked.  Cullen still didn't answer. Irving shook his head.  "Your silence speaks clear. I will need to report this to Knight-Commander Gregoir upon our return."

"First Enchanter, it's okay," Cera intervened quietly.  Her old mentor shook his head again.

"No, it is not.  He put you in danger.  Now, let us all get some rest.  Maurice, please keep watch." For being a mage, the templars listened to First Enchanter rather well.

"That means bed for you, too, Cera," Alistair helped her over toward the tent she was to share with Leliana.  The bard had already retreated back into bed.

"I'm fine, Alistair."

"No, it's not fine."

"I didn't say  _ it _ was fine.  I said _ I _ was fine.  I've never experienced that before… It's awful," Cera mused.  The companion lifted the tent flap for her to enter. Before doing so, the female Warden looked back at Cullen who was still watching her.  His face hardened the moment she looked.

"I'll take care of him.  Now to bed with you," he ushered her in.  Being smited had left her energy wanting so the mage easily found sleep but not before thinking about the kiss.  Cullen really was jaded. The moment he had forgotten, he had remembered again at the first sign of a spell.


	11. The Turning Shriek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song was found on the Dragon Age Wiki. I thought it fitting.

They had been traveling for a long time, though none of them could say exactly how long.  Throughout their travels, they had acquired more companions, such as the golem Shale, the drunken dwarf Oghren, and the Antivan Crow Zevran.  They had just finished getting the Dalish elves to agree to help and they were on their return journey to Redcliffe to report back to Arl Eamon.  

After the disastrous trip with Cullen, Cera and Alistair had grown close.  Their bond formed into something of a relationship over the course of their travels.  They both seemed happy and Saniel was glad for them. Zevran consistently made come-ons to Saniel but she shrugged them off.  Despite his insufferable flirting, he was a good hunting partner, but he was no Tamlen. Part of her held on hope that Tamlen was still alive somewhere.  It didn't feel like he was gone. She imagined if he were dead, his spirit would linger and guide her.

The night was quiet, save for Oghren's snoring.  Just another watch to be alone with her thoughts.  Saniel took to sharpening her blades near the crackling fire.  No matter how long she had traveled with her companions, she still missed home.  The Brecilian Forest was once her home where her clan lived. Then the Blight came and they moved on just after she was taken away by Duncan.  She would never see them again but she hoped they survived the Blight. Saniel and her companions had been lucky up to that point. Any injuries had been tended to and healed by Wynne, who was an excellent healer.  They had avoided any permanent injuries. Still, humans were not her favorite type of people. No matter where they went, there was always a comment made against her, whether it was calling her knife-ears or some other derogatory word.  

Saniel felt the faintest brush against her hair.  Her ears twitched and she turned around, her green eyes scanning the forest around the camp.  There was nothing at first. The taint's tingle started in the base of her spine and zipped right up to the back of her neck.  She slid her knife in the sheath on her thigh and picked up the quiver of arrows and her bow that had been leaning beside her. The quiver was slung over her shoulder and with elven grace she nocked an arrow into her bow.   "Darkspawn!" she yelled to wake the others just as a horrific shriek echoed through the night.

Shrieks appeared from their shadows around camp.  Saniel spun around and released an arrow that embedded itself between one of their eyes.  Alistair and Cera rushed from their tent followed by Zevran. Shale trampled her way over to the fight, as well.  Movement caught Saniel's eye and she looked over to see a Shriek leaving the combat. Nocking another arrow in her bow, she ran after it to the far side of camp.  It stopped, as did she. She pulled back the arrow, ready to let it fly, but stopped when the Shriek turned to her. It didn't look like the others. It was still short, still not fully turned.  It looked like an elf.

"You... _lethallan_ " it rasped.  She pulled back the arrow again.  " _Da'assan_..." it croaked again.  Saniel's heart began racing.  The elven Warden looked hard at the creature before her.  It's eyes were sallow and though its flesh was shadowy and dark, she could just make out the tattoos on its face.  Her arms slowly dropped down and she took a step forward.

"...Tamlen?"

"Don't... don't come near me! Stay away!" it hissed, running off again.  Saniel gave chase. If it was Tamlen, she wasn't letting him out of her sight.  She chased him until he finally stopped. When he did, she walked closer to him and reached out.  He slapped her hand away. "Don't...look at me. I am...sick..."

"Tamlen, we can help you.  They helped me. Please-"

"No help.  No...help for me..."  He was having trouble getting the words out.  Every word he spoke seemed to cause him pain and it broke her heart all over.  "The song...in my head. It...talks to me. He sings to me! I can't stop it!" Tamlen clutched at his head and squeezed his eyes shut.  "Don't want...to hurt you, _lethallan_.  Please...stop me..."

Saniel shook her head, trying to fight back her tears.  "Don't ask me to kill you. I can't do that."

"Too far.  You cannot help me.  Always...loved you...  I'm so sorry..."

"Tamlen," she reached out for him again.  He looked up at her, let out a shriek, and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her off the ground.  Saniel dropped her bow, her fingers trying to pull his hands away. It was no use. Black dots began clouding her vision.  Hot tears streamed down her cheeks.

The pressure released from her neck and she dropped to the ground, coughing as air filled her lungs once again.  Tamlen's corpse lay on the ground, a Crow's dagger sticking out of his eye. Her vision clearer, the elven Warden looked around to see some of her companions hovering around her.  Zevran walked over to the corpse, stepped on its forehead and yanked the dagger from its face. Saniel turned away from the sight.

"Who was that?" Alistair asked.  Cera knelt by Saniel's side and placed gentle hands on her shoulders.

She was weak.  Dalish warriors weren't supposed to cry.  Being a Warden had made her soft and she hated it.  "His name was Tamlen," Saniel softly replied, biting back a sob.

"Tamlen?  Then...he was the one who was with you when you..." Cera started then silently put the pieces together.  The mage wrapped her arms around her smaller companion. For once, Saniel didn't mind the embrace. "I'm so sorry, Saniel."

"That's what happens when the taint goes unchecked.  I think that's what you would have become if Duncan hadn't...  It's better for him, to have it end. It was a mercy," Alistair added solemnly.    

They cleaned up the other Shriek bodies, moving them away from camp.  They found enough wood to build a small pyre for Tamlen's body, though.  Cera reached toward the wood and whispered an incantation to set it ablaze.  Leliana, being the way she was, felt the need to say something.

"When my mother died, a wise elven woman comforted me and told me that we shouldn't fear death, or hate it.  Death is just another beginning. One day we must all shed our earthly bodies and allow our spirits to fly free."  It was a nice sentiment by the bard, though Saniel wasn't truly listening. Not until she heard Leliana begin to sing.  It was a song dear to the Dalish, one they often sang at vigils when a clansman passed. Saniel joined with the bard and they sang together.

" _Hahren na melana sahlin_

_Emma ir abelas_

_Souver'inan isala hamin_

_Vhenan him dor'felas_

_In uthenera na revas_

_Vir sulahn'nehn_

_Vir dirthera_

_Vir samahl la numin_

_Vir lath sa'vunin_ "

"What does it mean?" Cera asked quietly.  She was standing beside Alistair, his arm around her, her head on his shoulder.

"Elder your time is come.  Now I am filled with sorrow.  Weary eyes need resting. Heart has become grey and slow.  In waking sleep is freedom. We sing, rejoice, we tell the tales, we laugh and cry... We love one more day'," Saniel replied.  

As the pyre dimmed, the others returned to camp and their tents.  The elven Warden remained, reflecting on her Tamlen. As much as it pained her, it was the closure she sought.  He had been taken by the taint and, unlike her, he hadn't been found soon enough to be saved. But he was at peace now.  His soul was free to join their brethren.

"I am sorry, Saniel," Zevran said from her side.  She hadn't seen him return.

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"Perhaps.  I found this on his body.  I thought it might have meaning to you."  She turned to the Antivan and looked at what he held out to her.  It was a necklace. The pendant was metal shaped as an acorn. She had given it to Tamlen after his first successful hunt.  He thanked her with their first kiss.

A smile ghosted across her lips at the memory.  Seeing a brief glint of happiness on her face, the assassin walked around behind her and clasped the necklace around her neck.  "Happiness is becoming of you," Zev whispered in her ear and walked off.


	12. The New King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future of Ferelden's royalty falls on Cera's shoulders.

For everything that had happened, it seemed to come to a head at the Landsmeet in Denerim.  Once they reported back to Arl Eamon, the companions were routed to Denerim. A new ruler needed to be announced.  The Wardens and their companions had encountered many problems in Ferelden's capital city, but had gained the trust and backing of some of Ferelden's nobles.  Not to mention Queen Anora was on their side. She was a strange ally, one they didn't fully trust, but she was necessary. An Orlesian Grey Warden named Riordan had also become an unexpected ally.

The Landsmeet brought together nobles from across Ferelden in order to put a new ruler in place.  Arl Eamon gave his speech, one that Loghain protested against to the very end. The nobles were split in their decision until Anora arrived, declaring to all that she sided with the Grey Wardens.  Loghain wasn't having it, turning on Alistar, Cera, and Saniel and demanding to put a stop to it all. A duel. Alistair accepted, which surprised Loghain. "You're not as soft as Cailan was," he declared before they begun.  A duel well fought. Alistair brought Loghain to his knees.

Anora had stepped in then as another debate ensued.  Alistair demanded Loghain's life. Cera and Saniel heartily agreed after everything the monster tried to shame the Grey Warden name.  It was enough to make one's head spin until Arl Eamon silenced all.

"There may be many sides to this but I feel that the Grey Wardens should decide who will sit on the throne first.  Cera?" the old man looked over at the mage. Her violet eyes widened in surprise at the turn of events. Yes, they had spoke of different outcomes and she had talked it over with Anora, as well...but she was still just a mage.  

She looked between Anora and Alistair.  Her poor Alistair still looked like he wanted nothing to do with being King and he admitted it all the time.  However, there was something about Anora that she didn't trust. On the other hand, Alistair didn't really know how to rule a country...did he?  And then there was the one thing she had mentioned to Anora just to gain her backing... Her stomach was in knots at what she was about to say. "Alistair will be King,"  Murmurs rose among the nobles, "and Anora will be his Queen." The look on Alistair's face was a punch in the gut. He looked as hurt as she felt but it was the only logical solution in her head.   

"I will accept that, but what of my father?" Anora asked.  Loghain stood, his head held high. Cera didn't know what to say to that but she didn't need to.

For everything he's done to tarnish the Grey Warden name, sending assassins and mercenaries, selling elves into slavery..." Saniel walked right up to him and drew her dagger, pressing it against the man's throat.  

"You can't kill him!"

"Anora," Loghain held his hand out to his daughter.  "It's all right. Just make it quick," he asked of Saniel.  She did with a clean slice across his throat.

The Landsmeet had ended shortly after.  The Wardens, their companions, and Eamon discussed the Blight.  According to senior Warden Riordan, the darkspawn were moving west toward Redcliffe.  The group decided to leave in the morning. Eamon had requested to Alistair that they talk in private.  The companions remained around the table, drinking and sharing stories of their adventures over the past year.  Cera was enjoying it, but her mind was still caught up on her decision about Alistair and Anora. 

"Cera, may I speak with you in private?"  They all turned to the door where the future king stood.  Cera set down her goblet, stood, and followed him upstairs to his room.  She stood there while he closed the door and came to stand before her. "I never wanted to be king, Cera.  Why would you do that to me?" he asked.

The mage thought about her response before parting her lips.  "You're going to make a great king, Alistair. You're destined to.  It's in your blood."

"You sound just like Eamon."

"He has a point.  Alistair, you never wanted to take leadership over anything since Duncan died, but you didn't need to to see what I saw.  The people will love you. You're kind and caring. You strive to help those in need and you listen. Be the strong, fair king that Ferelden needs.  That they want," she replied as if it was a simple fact.

"And what of Anora?  If I had to do it, I could have done it alone," he said with a frown.  She looked down at her feet and started picking at her fingers.

"The country is divided.  We saw that everywhere we went.  Anora knows about ruling a country.  She's done so at Cailan's side for years but she doesn't command the respect that you do.  I think that your marriage to her is in the best interest of Ferelden," she admitted.

"And what of us?" Alistair's voice softened.  Her heart clenched. Over the year, she had grown so close to Alistair.  She was his first kiss. The first woman he had been with. She had felt the bond form between them and it ran deep within her, but it wasn’t the love he declared he had for her.  Truthfully, she figured they would die before that point. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to him, but it was the companionship she needed to get through the Blight.

"Alistair,” Cera sighed, “I'm a mage.  Grey Warden or not, I am frowned upon by society.  I think the only reason the people listened to me today was because it was either me or Saniel and those pompous asses wouldn't listen to an elf.  I was the lesser evil but I'm still nothing in their eyes. Even you know it would never work."

"But maybe you could still be around and we-"

"We what?" Cera glossy violet eyes shot up at the man in front of her.  "Do you really expect me to stay around and be your mistress? Is that what you think of me?"

"No!  No, that's not what I meant...kind of.  I just-" he scrambled to find the words.  "I don't want you to be anywhere but by my side, Cera.  We’ve been through so much. I can't imagine you not being around."

"But you'll be married and you will need to tend to your wife and your wife's needs.  You will need to produce an heir. What we have needs to stop here," she finished. She tried to come off like it didn't bother her so much and she was failing miserably at it.  Even if she didn’t return his love in the same way, 

Alistair cupped Cera's face in his hands and lifted it so their eyes would meet.  His swirled clearly in his deep blue eyes. "We have until after we defeat the Archdemon, right?  Could we just...could we enjoy the time we have left?" She wanted to. She wanted to so bad, but she shook her head.  Postponing the inevitable would only make it hurt worse. "Then just one more night. Please, Cera," he near begged her, leaning in close to her but not kissing her.  The mage reached her own hands up and laid them on top of his.

"One more night," she agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I skipped A LOT of story line between the last chapter and this one but, to be honest, nothing when I played Amell really jumped out at me as an "I need to write this!" moment. I know I also skimmed around Cera and Alistair's romance, but there's not much to say on that one. Plus, that'll be more in depth when I eventually put up my Cousland fic, but I'll finish this one first, don't worry. This is almost over and then it's off to Awakening, which I had much more fun writing with because, well, Anders. Duh. Cera doesn't just gloss over him...


	13. The Dark Ritual

They had tracked back west across Ferelden to Redcliffe.  The darkspawn had beaten them there, pillaging the town. The Wardens and soldiers from Denerim fought them back, eliminating the threat until there was none.  It didn't make sense. Where was the Archdemon? They reconvened at the Castle. New reports told of the darkspawn horde marching toward Denerim and a dragon was spotted with them.  Riordan guessed that that was the Archdemon. Had they really traveled across the country just to have to turn back around? That annoyed Saniel. The Dalish were thoughtful in their plans.  Humans seemed to chase whatever lead they had. Shemlen truly had no brains.

It was to be another night in the castle.  They would march out in the morning. "Alistair, Cera, and Saniel, please come to my chambers.  There is Grey Warden business we need to discuss," Riordan asked of them and retired for the evening.  The rest of them and the soldiers ate a hearty feast, the last they would have until it was all over. For some, it would just be their last.  

"So, how's about a game of Diamondback before we march to our deaths, eh?"  The drunken dwarf Oghren asked. He was leaning back in his chair, feet on the table, (after the meal, of course), a large mug of ale in his hand.  His axe was propped against the table beside him. He smelled terrible, his jokes were crude, and he made Zevran seem like a pure boy from the Chantry.  However, Oghren was a fabulous warrior and loyal to boot. He had grown on Cera over their time together. Saniel? It depended on the day.

It wasn't hard for the others to agree to the card game.  They pulled out what coin they had and started a hand. The three Wardens did not join, opting instead to go speak with Riordan.  They found him upstairs in his room, as he had stated. "Please come in," he gestured them inside. Alistair closed the door behind him.  "You are new to the Grey Wardens, and you may not have been told how an archdemon is slain. I need to know if that is so."

"You don't waste time with pleasantries, do you?" Cera asked, receiving a stern look in return.  Duncan used to wield the same look. Creepy. 

"You mean there's more to it than just, say, chopping off its head?" Alistair asked.  The senior Warden sighed heavily.

"So it is true.  Duncan had not yet told you.  I had simply assumed... Tell me, have you ever wondered why the Grey Wardens are needed to defeat the darkspawn?"

"It has something to do with the taint in us," Saniel replied.  She didn't hesitate on the answer.

"That is exactly what it involves.  The archdemon may be slain as any other darkspawn, but should any other than a Grey Warden do the slaying, it will not be enough.  The essence of the beast will pass through the taint to the nearest darkspawn and will be reborn anew in that body. The dragon is thus all but immortal.  But if the archdemon is slain by a Grey Warden...its essence travels into the Grey Warden, instead."

"Why would it do that?" Cera questioned.  She hadn't been prepared for the lecture.

"The essence seeks out the nearest tainted being.  If a Grey Warden slays the archdemon, he will be the closest.  A darkspawn is an empty, soulless vessel, but a Grey Warden is not.  The essence of the archdemon is destroyed...and so is the Grey Warden."

"Meaning...the Grey Warden who kills the archdemon...dies?" the younger male Warden's shoulders slumped, as did Cera's.  Saniel's feelings remained masked. She didn't budge and her face didn't betray her emotions.

"Yes, Alistair.  Without the archdemon, the Blight ends.  It is the only way. In Blights past, when the time came, the eldest of the Grey Wardens would decide which amongst them would take that final blow.  If possible, the final blow should be mine to make. I am the eldest, and the taint will not spare me much longer. But if I fail, the deed falls on to one of you," he said, looking directly at the women.  "The Blight must be stopped now or it will destroy all of Ferelden before the rest of the Grey Wardens can assemble. Remember that."

"If you fall, I will take the blow," the elf volunteered.  Cera's jaw dropped and she shook her head. "I have no fear of death.  If I fall, it will be up to you, Cera," she looked over at her companion.

"I could take it, as well," Alistair tried to interject, but Cera held up her hand to stop him from continuing.  She and Saniel looked at each other in silent understanding.

"She's right, Alistair.  I will do it. Ferelden will need their king," the mage confirmed.

"You expect me to watch you die?" he asked, appalled by the thought.

"Alistair, this is about stopping the Blight.  We must do what we can to stop it. Your companions understand this.  But enough of this talk. There will be little time for rest so get what you can now," Riordan said, ushering the three out of his room.  Without another word, the young Wardens split up without a word to one another.

Cera pushed open the door to her room, her head still trying to wrap around Riordan's information.  There was a good chance that she was going to die before the Blight was over. Hell, she might die ending it.  There was so much she wish she could've done, like forcing Cullen to see that she wasn't a monster or forgiving Jowan for all of his stupidity.  No, she couldn't think like that. She closed her door and turned around, jumping when she spotted the figure standing near her fireplace.

"Do not be alarmed.  It is only I," Morrigan spoke over her shoulder.  The two mages had become friends over the long journey.  Cera had learned much for Morrigan, including how to shapeshift.  Still, she hadn't expected the other mage to be in her room. 

"Morrigan, is everything all right?" Cera asked as she went about her business to prepare for bed.

"I am well.  'Tis you who are in danger."

"Excuse me?"

"I have a plan, you see.  A way out. The loop in your hole..." Morrigan turned around slowly, an eerie smile playing on her lips.  She crossed her arms in front of her and watched as Cera's movements slowed until she finally looked up. 

"I don't know what you're talking about.  If this is about Alistair-"

"I know what happens when the archdemon dies.  I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed, and that sacrifice could be you or one of your dear companions.  I have come to tell you this does not need to be." Cera's violet eyes narrowed suspiciously at her friend.  "I offer a way out. A way out for all the Grey Wardens, that there need be no sacrifice."

"I'm sorry, what?  This is the way it needs to be.  There's no way around it, Morrigan.  Unless you mean..."

"A ritual...performed on the eve of battle, in the dark of night."

"Just what sort of ritual is this?  Blood magic?" Cera asked, approaching her friend, or someone she had considered a friend.  Something felt very off about Morrigan's visit.

"It is old magic, from a time before the Circle of Magi was created.  Some might call it blood magic, but that is but a name. There is far more to fear in this world than names."

"And from where did you get this ritual?"

"From Flemeth, of course.  I have known about it for some time," Morrigan spoke, every word was as elegant as the one before.  She never faltered. She never paused. She never reacted to the anger beginning to flicker across Cera's face.  A blood magic ritual from the Witch of the Wilds that Morrigan had known for some time?

"So you knew about the sacrifice before Riordan told us?"

"I did.  Would you have believed me if I had been the one to tell you?"

"Of course I would have."

"I have my doubts." 

"...Nothing comes without a price..." Cera muttered, her narrowed eyes following Morrigan as she paced.

"What I propose is this; convince Alistair to lay with me.  Here, tonight. And from this ritual a child shall be conceived within me.  The child will bear the taint, and when the archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child like a beacon.  At this early stage, the child can absorb that essence and not perish. The archdemon is still destroyed, with no Grey Warden dying in the process."  

The Warden mage wanted to lash out and choke Morrigan for what she just proposed.  Sleep with Alistair and produce a child? The mere suggestion enraged her. It was bad enough she had to declare Alistair would marry Anora and lead Ferelden without his consent.  To ask him to sleep with someone he despised to produce a child? She shook her head and swallowed down angry tears. “And what do you get out of this?”

"After this is done, you allow me to walk away...and you do not follow me.  Ever. The child will be mine to raise as I wish."

"...Is this why...?"

"This is what my mother intended when she sent me with you, yes.  She was the one who first gave me this ritual and told me of what I was meant to do.  This does not surprise you, does it? Did you not wonder why Flemeth saved your life, why she aided you?  This is why." 

"You can't ask me to do this, Morrigan.  I won't do this and Alistair won't agree to it.  You know he won't."

"If you care for him as you claim to, you will convince him to.  Consider what the alternative might be? Do you think Alistair will fail to do his duty as the future king and save his country?  And if you take the blow instead he loses the woman he loves. How do you think he would feel about that?" Morrigan suggested...and she was right.  Damn her. Ferelden needed him as king but it was clear in Riordan's room that he was not happy with the plan. He had done a lot of stupid things in order to protect her before so why would facing the archdemon be any different.  

"...I will think about it."  Cera's response was hesitant and she left her room before she could hear anymore from that witch.  She had considered Morrigan a friend, but she was nothing more than a self-serving bitch. Alistair had been right about her all along.  Yes, she was actually considering the ritual. To not die herself or have Saniel or Alistair die... 

Cera knocked lightly on Alistair's door.  He opened it, his shirt was disheveled like he had just thrown it on and the tie on his trousers was undone.  He looked good and tired and it made her feel worse. "Oh, um...Cera...come in," he said, stepping aside so she could enter.  "What's wrong?"

"I, um," she stopped to clear her throat.  "Morrigan was in my room."

"Ugh.  What did she want?" he asked.  Alistair sat down on the edge of his bed, patting the space beside him for Cera.  She started to move to the bed but stopped herself and shook her head slightly. She needed to focus.

"She...  She said she knows a way where no one will die.  Well, a Grey Warden won't die from slaying the archdemon."

"You told her?"

"She knew...from Flemeth...apparently."

"And this way to stop a Grey Warden's death?" he asked, not convinced thus far.  She couldn't blame him. 

"It's a ritual that will call the archdemon's essence to something other than a Grey Warden or darkspawn but it's..." Cera paused for a brief moment and took a breath.  "You need to sleep with her," she spat out.

"What?" he bellowed, launching off the bed.  Cera squeezed her eyes shut and ducked her head.  "Are you insane? Why the hell would I agree to something like that?"

"I know, I know it's crazy, Alistair but I can't stand the thought of you dying, either!"  There. She said it...or yelled it. "We all hope Riordan will be able to make that final blow but what if he doesn't?  And what if Saniel's not around? What if it's you and me on top of that tower, hm? Will you let me kill it?" She proposed the question, finding the courage to look him right in the eye.  He was still angry but the question subdued the ire. He didn't say anything. That was his answer. "Exactly. You wouldn't. You would do it before I could get there and Ferelden would be without their king and I would...I would be without you."

"But we can't be together anyway, Cera."

"But you'll still be alive, Alistair.  Ferelden needs you. I need you."

"All I have to do is sleep with her?  Anything else?" Alistair asked, sounding ever so defeated.

"...It will produce a child.  The child will take in the essence of the Old God.  She wants to disappear after and never see any of us again."

"A child?" his rage returned and for the first time, Cera saw him lash out.  Alistair slammed his fist against the stone wall, ignoring the blood bubbling up from the wounds.  "Damn it, Cera! Do you have any idea what that could do if she came back with it? Do you know what it's like to be a bastard child?  How could you expect me to do this at all?"

"Please, I know it's absurd and I'm being selfish but I think this will be better for all of us.  We must prepare for all possible cases and this country needs you!" 

They both quieted down then.  She studied him for any other reaction.  He quietly thought it over. Finally he walked toward the door without looking at her. "Fine.  I'll do it but don't ask me for anything else ever again, Cera," he stated and left her alone in the room.


	14. Release the Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bligh is over. What's ahead for our Wardens?

It was done.  

Riordan had died before he could reach the archdemon.  Saniel had been the one to deliver the final blow and she had lived, just as Morrigan said.  They lost their mabari hound and Sten to the darkspawn but the others had survived, slightly worse for wear.  It was a long, hard battle and it was finally over.

The group of companions all gathered inside the royal hall in Denerim wearing the finest clothes they were provided with.  Saniel felt odd about it. She had never worn a fancy dress before. They waited and watched as the Revered Mother performed the wedding ceremony for Alistair and Anora.  Then she crowned them both. When it was complete, their new king gave a speech about how the country helped to defeat the Blight and everything he wanted to do going forward.  For someone who detested the thought of being king, Alistair was remarkable at delivering speeches. He was also remarkable to making up titles. He dubbed Saniel the Hero of Ferelden because she slayed the archdemon.  The people cheered. She did not. As for Cera, she was given the post of Warden Commander and would be leaving for the city of Amaranthine within the month, after resolving some warden business, of course. 

The festivities began immediately.  There was a feast and dancing. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, celebrating the end of the Blight, the new king, and the lives of those they had lost.  At one point Zevran dragged Saniel out to the dance floor. Cera sat off to the side, just watching everyone. One person caught her eye from across the room. Cullen.  He was standing beside Knight-Commander Gregoir and First Enchanter Irving. It was nice to see Irving out and about. Not wanting to waste the only time she felt she'd see him, the Warden mage slipped out of her seat and walked over to their table.

"First Enchanter, I'm so glad you're here," she greeted them, also casting a smile to Gregoir.  Irving's face lit up upon seeing her.

"Cera," the old mage smiled up at her and immediately embraced her.  "I am so proud of you, child." He pulled back, holding her hands lightly in his.

"Thank you, First Enchanter.  How are thing back at the Circle?" she asked both Irving and Gregoir, passing her smile onto the Knight-Commander, as well.  The stern templar's eye were soft, though he didn't really smile.

"They are progressing," Gregoir stated.

"I'm glad."

Through the rest of the evening, the dancing and celebrations commenced.  After bothering Saniel enough, Zevran turned his eyes on Cera. He dragged her out to the dance floor to twirl her around and she welcomed his jovial nature.  More than a few times, her eyes would drift over to Cullen and she would find him staring back at her. 

Eventually the night wound down.  Noblemen and women, and commoners left the castle.  The king had graciously provided rooms for his former companions, though not all accepted.  Shale and Wynne had already left earlier in the evening on business that neither shared. Leliana, too, disappeared into the night.  Oghren and Zevran were the only other ones to take up the king's offer. Oghren because he wanted to and Zevran because he felt he needed to watch after Saniel and Cera for at least one more night.

Cera bid her companions good night and entered her room that she was given.  There was a small bed to the side, a fireplace on the other and a large rug covering the stone floor.  An empty armoire stood against the wall near the door. Cera didn't really have much now that the battle was over.  Her backpack held some poultices and Lyrium potions. All of her clothes had been taken by the servants to be washed but were now folded on the edge of the bed.  As she packed them up, she thought about the orders she was given for the weeks to come. Once everything was back in order in Denerim, she would be leaving for Amaranthine.  There would be an escort, a Warden recruit, to lead her to Vigil's Keep, the new Warden home. The recruit's name was Mhairi. A Ferelden native and warrior, Mhairi was apparently the first to volunteer when the word of rebuilding the Grey Warden order was released.  Cera wasn't sure what to expect with her, but at least she wouldn't be alone for her journey. Saniel hadn't wanted to go. The elf had decided to stay in Denerim to help Alistair. She would find Grey Warden recruits, train them, and if they were fit she would send them to Amaranthine.  Cera truly wished her elven friend would join her but it wouldn't be so.

Once her pack was filled with her belongings, Cera started to undo the ties on the front of her dress bodice.  It was a deep, lush, cobalt blue with gold adornments. Never had she had anything so fine. It would be going with her for sure.  The dress slid down her legs to the floor. She picked it up delicately laying it on her bed. Her cream colored night dress, clean now, she slipped over her head and brushed it down.  She had just started to take out her hair clips and unwind her braids when there was a knock at the door. "One moment," she called out but the person didn't heed her words. The door opened, her violet eyes locking on the intruder.  "Cullen..." the mage breathed. He was still wearing his ceremonial armor and his cheeks were flushed from drink.

"You," he started, pointing at her while he stepped inside the room and pushed the door back behind him so it was just barely opened.  "You will not leave my dreams at night or my thoughts in the day. You have poisoned my mind to the point of insanity. Remove your hex, you abomination," he growled at her.

"Cullen, I don't know what you're speaking of-"

"Don't lie to me!  Remove this bewitchment or else," he advanced toward her and she stepped back.  He drew his sword, raising it against her. Her instincts told her to burn his ass.  Electricity sparked from her fingertips and though her mind told her it was a bad idea, her magic put her on the defensive.  Her arm barely raised before the templar mimicked her movement. The magic and air pulled from her body, causing her to collapse to the floor again.  "I have grown weary of your trickery, witch, and if you will not end it, I will end it for you," Cullen snarled. The flat of his sword tapped the bottom of her chin, lifting it up so he could look in her eyes.  The sword's point jabbed at her throat. She had no energy to beg or even cry.

"I highly suggest you seperate yourself from the Warden Commander, friend, and leave this room," Zevran's thick accent floated in from the door, drawing Cullen's attention.  Cera dared not move. 

"Leave us, elf," the templar spat back.  Zevran was not swayed and stepped into the room.  Behind him was Saniel, her bow raised, an arrow ready to fly.  The sword's tip pressed further against Cera's skin, poking through just enough to draw a bit of blood and then it was removed.  Cullen growled again, sending a hateful glare back at the mage before he left, shoving past the elves. 

When he was gone, Saniel lowered her bow and only moved in enough to close the door completely.  Zevran knelt by Cera's side to help her up. "That seemed rather intense, dear Warden. Perhaps I should be following you to Amaranthine for your safety," he chuckled, as he normally did when trying to make light of a heavy situation.

"He was one of the templars that accompanied you back to Redcliffe, wasn't he?" Saniel asked her fellow Warden.  Cera nodded. Saniel snorted in derision. "Typical shem. I should have shot him."

"No.  He's been through enough..." Cera replied.  She reached up to touch her neck where the sword poked her then looked at the spot of blood on her fingertip.  It wasn't much. She'd be fine without a healer. 

"Why do you make excuses for him?  If we had not shown up, you would be dead now.  I am not taking post as Warden Commander, Cera."  

"Ever so sentimental, Saniel.  Thank you for that," Cera replied with a snarky tone.  "Truly. I'm touched." The elf glared back at her. 

"Ladies, let us chalk this up to a long, exciting evening, and the stress of things to come.  I believe sleep is in order. Would you like me to stand guard for you tonight, Cera?" Zevran attempted to intervene.  

"No, Zevran.  I will be fine.  Thank you. I'll try to put up a protective ward at my door before I sleep."

"We should also notify the king-"

"No!" Cera snapped then took a moment.  "He wouldn't be too concerned about it and he has his new wife to tend to.  Just...please. I want to get some sleep. Thank you both for your impeccable timing."

"Please be sure to take care of yourself.  Perhaps my adventures will take me to the Wardens' new home to check in on you," the Antivan winked.

"I might like that, thank you, but I won't be leaving right away."

"But I might be.  Safe travels, my friend," he bid her and slipped out the door, leaving just the two female Wardens.

"I'm sorry, Saniel."

"What are you sorry for?"

"The thing with Morrigan..." Cera hung her head.  They had had a brief discussion about it with Alistair.  Well, the discussion was more them ganging up on Cera about her decision.

"You should be," the elf curtly replied.  "I was almost glad to die...to see Tamlen again..."  That was more than the elf previously offered. Saniel sat down on the bed beside Cera.  "I can also understand why you did it. What you and Alistair had reminded me of Tamlen and myself.  If I could have saved him, I would have done anything. So it makes me wonder why you gave him up."

Cera looked over at her friend, surprised that she would even ask that.  "It was just better for everyone. He's going to be a fabulous king. Anyone can see that.  He already is one and..." she sighed. "It makes sense in my head. I swear. It's just the logical thing to do and it's different when you're in society and not out traversing all over Ferelden hunting darkspawn."

"I think I understand.  Back in my clan, though Tamlen and I had had something between us, it was kept secret.  All clans are different but our Keeper was very strict on her wishes. She deemed who would marry.  Tamlen was betrothed to another and I knew we needed to stop. He made it very difficult to do so...and then we found that cursed Eluvian," Saniel sighed herself.  That was the first that she spoke of her and Tamlen's relationship. Cera was surprised by that.

"Alistair suggested that I stick around but I have no desire to be someone's mistress.  It was hard enough in the Circle to sneak around and now that I'm out of that... Anyway, enough of sharing our feelings, right?" she snickered and looked over at the elf.  Like usual, Saniel didn't seem very amused.

"I agree.  Good night, Cera."

 

"Night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's Origins, friends. I hope I didn't bore anyone out of their skulls with the short hopping around. I felt I needed to do this to introduce Cera and Saniel before taking them on to their next adventures. If you read this, I really appreciate it and any feedback you can provide would be appreciated.


End file.
